Nancy Drew and the Egyptian Deception
by Lady Emily
Summary: Nancy is plunged into a nightmare when her fairytale honeymoon is interrupted by a mysterious phone call. Suddenly, she is stranded in a foreign country with a dangerous mission and no idea who can be trusted...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi all, I'm back! This is probably going to be a longer story... It's a little different that what I usually write: darker, more dramatic, a bit racier... But I hope you like it!

And special thanks to supernaturalsam, who continues to provide me with encouragement and plot support for this little endeavor!

Disclaimer: Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys do not belong to me, and I am making no profit from the writing of this story.

* * *

The sound of the shower running filtered dimly through to Nancy's consciousness, and she began to stir. The sun forced its way under her eyelids from a pool of light on her pillow, streaming through a gap in the gauzy white curtains that obscured the balcony door. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled as she remembered where she was: a hotel suite in Cairo, Egypt.

She was on her honeymoon.

She stretched out her body on the bed and sighed contentedly. The sheets were expensive, soft linen; the Network had spared no expense in accommodations for this little vacation/courier mission. She realized that she was sore in some places—blushing as she recalled last night's activities—but it was a good ache. Lying back, she contemplated the ornate moldings on the ceiling. She'd only been married for four days, and it was both like and unlike how she'd expected it to be.

Since the wedding, Frank had been... wonderful. He was always wonderful. But he was just a little cooler, a little more brusque than usual. And for the past few days, he'd taken to waking up at the crack of dawn. If something was bothering him, if he was worried about the Network mission, she wished he would talk to her about it. This was supposed to be the happiest time of their lives, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something, somewhere, was wrong.

She berated herself silently for the thought. She was worried about nothing. Frank loved her, would trust her with anything, just as she did him. That was something she would never doubt. And if he _was_ worried about something, it would be her mission to make him forget.

The shower stopped, and a minute later her husband appeared in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, one hand carding through his damp hair. He didn't look over at the bed, instead heading for the dresser. Nancy bit her lip, enjoying the view. "Hey, handsome."

Frank turned, boxers in hand, and walked back to her, a warm smile on his face. "Morning, beautiful." he returned smoothly, sitting on the bed next to her feet.

She sat up, clutching the sheets to her naked body, and leaned into him, their lips meeting in a lingering kiss. "Good morning." she murmured, smiling, when the kiss broke. "You're up early again... Since when have you been such an early bird?"

He shrugged. "Maybe the time difference screwed me up. Sorry."

She shook her head, her strawberry-blonde hair swinging around her shoulders and glinting in the red light of the sunrise. "I'm not upset that you're up, except inasmuch as that it means you're not in bed with me."

He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. "That can be rectified."

His words sent a little shiver up her spine. She'd known Frank Hardy for years, since they were kids, but he'd always had the power to make her blush, even now. Even after they'd been an official couple for over two years, even after there were no secrets between them. Nothing at all between them, in fact, but a thin bedsheet. "So rectify it, Hardy."

His hands encircled her waist as he lowered her back down to the bed.

* * *

"So..." Nancy said, some time later, as they were tangled together in the sheets. "What's wrong?" It briefly occurred to her that there might be a more appropriate time to ask the question, but why wait for it when she could ask him now and set them both at ease?

"Wrong?" Frank repeated with a laugh, still slightly out of breath. "You think there's something wrong?"

"Not with _that_." Nancy clarified with a grin of her own. "With you."

He grew still. "What do you mean, Nan?"

"Give me a little credit, Frank. I can tell when there's something bothering you. What is it? The Network mission? Being married not as much fun as you thought? Worried that your brother's poking into some kind of sinister puka shell smuggling ring in Aruba without you?" Nancy said. Her words were teasing, but her eyes were serious.

"Nah, Joe's got Vanessa to keep him in line." Frank said with a little smile, probably thinking of Joe and his new wife, Vanessa, on their honeymoon in the Caribbean. "And being married... well, that's not too bad either."

"Then it's the Network thing." Nancy inferred.

"Maybe a little..." Frank admitted.

"It sounds like a pretty simple mission: meet up with the contact, tell him the code, get the package, and bring it home." Nancy summarized. "You think something is going to go wrong?"

"No," Frank sat up and swung his legs off the bed so that he was facing away from her. "No, you're probably right. Guess I'm just a little anxious, is all. I won't really feel like myself until we get ahold of that thing—whatever it is—and put it into the right hands."

"I know what you mean." Nancy nodded. "I mean, if the Network was willing to put us up in a place like this just for doing them a simple favor, that package must be worth a lot to someone. Hopefully we'll be able to keep the package drop a secret, and we won't end up dealing with thieves."

"Hopefully." Frank echoed.

A half hour later they were both showered and dressed, heading through the hotel lobby. Their destination for the day was the Saladin Citadel, a huge fortress in central Cairo that was over 800 years old. The ancient structure was now full of mosques and museums, and, since it was built on a hill right in central Cairo, it was said to have a spectacular view of the city.

One of the bellboys approached Frank, saying there was a message for him at the front desk. Nancy went with him to retrieve it, but it turned out to be a case of mistaken identity. Frank grinned at her. "A message that's not for me... I don't know whether to be suspicious or not."

"I'm not sure." Nancy laughed. "I've never made it this far into a vacation without stumbling on some kind of trouble before..."

The Citadel was just as awe-inspiring as the guidebooks had said. Nancy was glad she'd remembered to wear clothing that covered her legs and shoulders, as there was a strict dress code for religious reasons. The mosques in the Citadel were still in use, and worshipers were scattered among the tourists.

She was following Frank through a narrow corridor when she was bowled into by a woman coming the other way. The woman, who was wearing a scarf over her dark hair, mumbled a quick apology and left before Nancy could get a good look at her. Quickly, she reached for her purse, worried that the woman might have been a pickpocket, but her wallet, keys, and travelers' checks were still intact.

"Did she get anything?" Frank asked. Clearly he was thinking the same thing she had.

"Nothing... I guess she just tripped." She shook her head. "Okay, now we really are just looking for trouble."

"And when we do that, we usually find it." Frank reminded her.

"So let's not." Nancy suggested with a grin.

They spent the rest of the day exploring the ancient fortress, as well as touring other historic sites around the city. Then they returned to their hotel room to shower and dress in preparation for a dinner cruise on the Nile. Nancy had finished showering and was in the process of putting her hair up when she heard the buzzing coming from her bag.

She grabbed the purse from where it was sitting on the back of the toilet and opened it curiously. She knew for a fact that her cell phone was not in her purse—the roaming charges were enough to deter her from bringing it to Egypt at all. Her father and the Hardys had the number of their hotel suite in case of emergencies, and she'd planned on using a calling card to check in with them later in the week. So what was ringing in her purse?

She traced the source of the buzzing to a rarely-used side pocket and withdrew a flat silver cell phone that she had never seen before in her life. The number in the display gave her no clues as to where the phone had come from, or who might be calling it. Frowning, she flipped the phone open and brought it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Nancy Drew. You are in grave danger." said the voice on the other end. "It is imperative that you listen to me carefully. Are you alone right now?"

Nancy felt goosebumps rise on her skin at the unknown caller's warning. How did he know her name? "Who is this?" she said in a low voice.

"My name is Arthur Gray. I'm an operative of-"

"The Network." Nancy finished with him, her eyebrows knitted together with concern. She'd never met the Gray Man personally, but she'd heard Frank and Joe's stories about their elusive Network contact. The first few pieces fell into place as she realized who she was dealing with. The woman who had bumped her at the Citadel today hadn't been trying to pick her pocket; instead, she'd left her the phone. Now that Nancy thought about it, sending an agent in disguise to plant a cell phone on her seemed like a very Network way to reach her. "What's going on? Is this about the courier mission?"

"First things first." Gray said. There was a note of anxiety in his voice that made Nancy very uneasy. "_Are you alone?_"

"Yes, but Frank's just in the other room." Nancy answered. "Let me just-"

"_No!_" Gray practically shouted. Then he calmed his voice. "Do _not_ call him. This is for you alone, Miss Drew."

Nancy frowned. Was the Gray Man trying to ask her to keep secrets from Frank? "We're married, Mr. Gray." she said stiffly. "It's Hardy now."

"I know you believe that to be the case..." the Gray Man sighed. "It's difficult to tell you this, Miss Drew. But the man you married is not the real Frank Hardy."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! You make me laugh :D

A few of you have wondered whether this story ties in with _Nancy Drew and the Lazarus Wedding_, and my answer is yes, yes it does, but it's not a sequel. Remember how when I wrote _Lazarus_ everyone was like, "Thank goodness you're writing this in a humorous style instead of making it all angsty and horrible"? Well, this is the angsty and horrible version of how things could have gone. I know. Why would I write such a thing?

At this point, I'm really not planning on putting Joe and Vanessa in the story beyond a few references and maybe a conversation or two (they're off doing their own thing), but I hope you'll continue to read anyway!

Minor references to the Supermysteries _Secrets on the Nile _and _The Last Resort._

* * *

"_Excuse_ me?"

Nancy didn't know what she'd been expecting to hear when the Hardys' Network contact had called her out of the blue, but it wasn't that her husband was not the real Frank Hardy. Whatever that meant.

"I'm very sorry, Miss Drew." Gray continued. "But it seems that Frank and Joe Hardy were replaced with identical doubles commissioned by the terrorist group the Assassins, who were attempting to use the double to get the package you and Frank were sent to Egypt to retrieve. The switch was made just hours before your wedding. The true Frank and Joe were-"

"Stop." Nancy said in a low, dangerous voice. Somewhere in the past few seconds she became aware that if the mysterious caller wasn't actually the Gray Man, he knew a lot of details he shouldn't. However, what he was describing was impossible. "What you're saying is crazy, and I, for one, don't think it's very funny. I don't know who you really are, or what you're trying to pull, but you're going to have to come up with something better than that."

"I'm sorry," Gray repeated, "But it's true. And it means that you are in danger at this very moment, not to mention that if the imposter gets his hands on that package, national security will certainly be compromised."

"You're insane." Nancy accused. "Don't you think I would recognize if that man out there wasn't Frank?"

The Gray Man inhaled impatiently, sounding as if he were trying to distill a very long and complex tale into a children's story. "There is a rogue group of doctors and scientists that call themselves the Lazarus Clinic. They are able to create exact doubles of people using advanced plastic surgery-"

"Plastic surgery!" Nancy repeated scornfully. "Even if you _could_ use plastic surgery to make two people look exactly identical, plastic surgery can't recreate memories, thoughts, feelings. Frank has all those. He's him."

"There are other ways of duplicating a person's memories and thoughts, Miss Drew." Gray began, but Nancy had had enough.

At the mention of her maiden name, she interrupted, "Look, I don't know why you're trying to scare me, but you're just making me angry. Don't bother calling me again." Then she ended the call and powered down the cell phone. For a moment she considered tossing the phone right in the trash, but at the last moment she slipped it back into her purse.

She finished doing her hair and makeup and exited the bathroom, smiling at the sight of Frank lying casually back on the bed, already handsomely dressed in his tan slacks and navy blue shirt. Her own outfit was cornflower blue, a button-up shirt dress with strappy brown sandals.

"You look beautiful." Frank said. "As always."

And as always, she blushed at his approving look. "You don't look so bad yourself." she said warmly, sitting on the end of the bed. Already, the anxiety from the strange phone call was beginning to fade. If she couldn't be sure of Frank, she couldn't be sure of anything.

He sat up. "Everything all right?"

Nancy looked at him with surprise. "Why do you ask?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. You seem a little worried. You've got that little wrinkle that comes between your eyebrows when you're thinking really hard." He touched the spot on her forehead with his finger, and then with his lips.

Nancy tilted her head up so that he could kiss her properly. This was Frank. She knew it was, and if there had been any doubt in her mind he had just eased it away. Who but Frank would be able to tell that she was worried when she'd been trying so hard to hide it? Surely no one but her closest family and friends would recognize the expressions she made when she was deep in thought. Not to mention, was it even possible that any man besides Frank could kiss her like this, could turn her knees to water and set off fireworks behind her eyelids? She'd never met the man who could.

"There's nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing." she murmured, making a split-second decision not to tell him about the phone call. She didn't know whether it was a prank, or some kind of Assassin trick, but she wasn't going to fall for it, and there was no point in worrying Frank for nothing. Besides, she was kind of enjoying these mystery-free vacation days.

Pecking his lips once more, she dragged Frank to his feet. "Come on, we've got a boat to catch."

* * *

"Did you really choose this boat because of Agatha Christie's _Death on the Nile_?" Frank asked with a laugh. They were standing on the outside deck of _The Nile Peking_, watching the city lights reflecting off the dark water below.

"This is the boat from the book." Nancy insisted. "Modernized, of course."

"Of course." Frank nodded. "That's my girl: nothing excites her more than a mystery story, except being in one in real life."

"It's a _classic._" Nancy told him, ignoring his teasing. "Don't try to tell me it's not; I know you liked it too."

Frank shrugged. "I always preferred Miss Marple to Hercule Poirot." he said.

"Lies!" Nancy accused with a grin, bumping him gently with her shoulder. He laughed again, taking his arm and wrapping it around her.

They lapsed into a companionable silence, taking in the beauty of the night and their surroundings. Finally, Nancy spoke up. "Did you ever think we'd be back here like this?" she asked musingly.

"You mean in Egypt?" Frank asked.

"Right." Nancy clarified. "I mean here in Egypt. Together."

"I dunno, Nan. I mean, after the Addison case... well, I thought about it for a long time. I'm pretty sure I was in love with you even way back then."

Nancy smiled. "Me too. I kept remembering our last night in Luxor over and over..."

"The bomb at the banquet?" Frank asked. He was looking out over the water, not at her, but she knew he was teasing her.

"That was pretty memorable." she agreed with a sly grin. "But I was really talking about later that night. On the balcony at our hotel? Don't you remember?"

"Remember?" Frank repeated. He turned her so that he could nuzzle his lips to her neck, a move which she always found completely distracting. "You think I could forget our first kiss?"

Nancy closed her eyes and pressed herself against him. "I told you that our relationship could never go anywhere, and you agreed with me, and said that you were in love with Callie." she remembered, shivering as he found a sensitive spot behind her ear.

He chuckled low and throaty. "For a couple of smart kids, we could be pretty stupid at times."

Nancy couldn't agree more.

* * *

It wasn't until she was lying in bed that night that she realized what niggling phrase had been chewing at her mind all evening...

Why had Frank referred to the Egypt case as their _first_ kiss?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to Tigress2929, the. vulture, Really Cinderella, Caranath, and (of course!) supernaturalsam for your reviews! I'm so happy you're all sticking with the story... things are only going to get worse lol.

* * *

Nancy lay awake in bed long after Frank had fallen asleep, listening to the sound of his even breathing and feeling unwanted doubts nagging at her consciousness. So Frank had accidentally identified the Egypt case as their first kiss. That meant nothing, a slip of the tongue. And it had been years ago. Who could remember the order of their cases anyway?

Except that... Frank could.

He was brilliant; he never forgot anything. This was the man who could pull out the barest scrap of trivia he'd seen in a book he'd skimmed five years ago and use it to resolve an imminent life-threatening crisis. Could he really have forgotten their _first kiss_?

Silently as possible, Nancy slipped out of the bed, wrapping herself in the soft cream-colored robe provided by the hotel. Reaching into her purse, she palmed the flat silver cell phone. Then she gently tugged open the sliding glass door leading to the balcony and stepped outside, making sure to let the sheer curtains fall back in place. Even if Frank woke up, he wouldn't immediately be able to see her.

Sitting down on the wide railing, Nancy stared at the phone in her hand. She was crazy to even be considering this. Especially without talking to Frank first.

...If he _was_ Frank.

Scoffing, she set the phone down on the ledge, an arm's length away. She wasn't going to turn it on, wasn't going to try to contact the lunatic who'd called her earlier. It was completely irrational to take the side of an unknown phone voice over that of her husband, just because he'd had a tiny lapse in memory.

If she didn't turn on the phone, according to the mysterious caller, her life and even American national security could be in danger.

If she _did_ turn on the phone, she was a faithless wife.

It's not like he didn't remember their real first kiss. It was a stupid offhand comment. She hadn't noticed his mistake herself at the time. Maybe he'd realized he said it and just didn't bother to correct himself.

But it was that in conjunction with the phone call, in conjunction with the feelings she'd had when she'd woken up this morning. The slight uneasiness that came up between them sometimes, the sense that something, somewhere, was just a little... off. Nancy had been sleuthing since she was a child, and she'd come to learn that her intuition rarely steered her wrong.

And also, if she didn't turn on the phone, she would never know just what the Network, or the Assassins, or whoever it really was who had called her was trying to pull.

It was her curiosity that finally convinced her to pick the phone up. She just wanted to know who had slipped her this phone, and what they wanted. She could treat this like a normal investigation, and that wouldn't need to mean that she didn't trust Frank.

Still, she felt a little sick as she turned it on.

There were over thirty missed calls, all from the same number. Taking a deep breath, she dialed it back. It was answered almost immediately. "Miss Drew, did something happen?"

Nancy swallowed hard at the sound of the Gray Man's unremarkable voice. "No." she answered. "But I need you to answer a few questions."

"Understandable." Gray said. "But please make sure you are at a secure location. This phone may be untraceable, but when you're sleeping with an enemy spy..."

"Please, Mr. Gray." Nancy cut him off firmly, but her voice quivered. She'd finally allowed herself to consider the possibility that Frank wasn't Frank, but she hadn't yet confronted the problem of who he _was_. She mentally shelved that frightening topic for later. "First of all, I need to be sure that you're really from the Network."

"And how would you have me prove that?" Gray asked, gently but seriously. "You are not a Network agent. You have no verification codes, no method of contacting us yourself. You've never met me, and even if you had, that would be an unreliable way to recognize me. In fact, the only way you know of the Network's existence is through whatever stories Frank and Joe Hardy may have shared with you (against protocol, I might add). Even your current mission is not fully clear to you; all you know is that we have sent you and your husband to Egypt for ten days, and in return, you must collect and bring home a package of contents unknown to you."

The Gray Man, if that's who he truly was, was right, Nancy realized. She had no real way of verifying anything the man was saying. But her gut was telling her to trust him. "You are telling me that you are the Gray Man, from the Network, and that the man who is currently asleep in my hotel room is not Frank Hardy, but some sort of surgically-altered imposter trying to obtain this mysterious package for the Assassins." she clarified.

"A succinct, but ultimately accurate summary of the situation." said Gray approvingly.

"Assuming, for a moment, that I believe it is possible for someone—this Lazarus Clinic, as you called them earlier—to create an exact body double of a person," Nancy said, phrasing her question carefully, "How would they go about duplicating the person's mind?"

"It's a very complicated process. They call it psychological reprogramming. They do research on the target, reading his notes, emails, and journals, taping his phone calls, spying on the target and his friends... All of the information they collect is carefully reconstructed into memories in the double's brain." Gray sighed. "Miss Drew, I would be happy to explain it to you in further detail once you are out of imminent danger."

Every time he called her by her maiden name she was reminded that she might have married the wrong man. "I haven't made up my mind to believe you yet, Mr. Gray." she said coolly. "And if you can't call me Hardy I wish you would just call me Nancy."

Mr. Gray sighed again. "All right then, Nancy. I understand that this must be very upsetting for you. What other questions can I answer for you?"

"Thank you." Nancy nodded, biting her lower lip in concentration. "Now, if the double's memories are reconstructed from research, wouldn't there necessarily be gaps?"

"Not necessarily." Gray said slowly. "But potentially. Especially if the memory in question has no official record, no witnesses, no bystanders... I might be able to help you if you'll be more specific, Nancy."

"Our first kiss." Nancy confessed, her cheeks reddening. "Earlier he referred to our second kiss as our first. Our real first kiss took place in a snowbound cabin in Colorado, no witnesses except me and him. I never told anyone, and as far as I know neither did he."

"That is the sort of situation that could result in a gap." the Gray Man confirmed. "That's hardly the kind of information Frank would have recorded in his case files, especially given that, if I'm not mistaken, he was still in a relationship with Callie Shaw at the time. It's entirely possible that the double doesn't know about it. You were clever to catch it, Miss... Nancy."

Nancy shrugged off the praise; it didn't make her feel any better at this juncture. "I have another question..." she said slowly, the unsettling thought forming in her mind and catching in her throat. "If-if everything you're saying is true, and my husband is the fake Frank... Where is _my_ Frank?"

The Gray Man paused, and Nancy knew instantly that she would not like the news. "He's alive." Gray said finally. "He and Joe were found late last night, tied up in the trunk of a car, both severely dehydrated and suffering from assorted cuts and bruises. Frank had sustained a fairly serious head wound and lost quite a bit of blood, but he's stable now."

"_What?_" Nancy whispered. She felt the blood drain from her face, leaving her feeling sick and lightheaded. Frank and Joe hurt, nearly killed, while she and Vanessa married their doubles and went on their honeymoons? "Does Vanessa know about this?" she asked numbly.

"We haven't contacted her yet." Gray said. "We feel that apprising her of the situation would only put her in more danger. If Joe's double finds out he's been made, who knows what he'll do. We contacted you because we knew you'd be able to handle yourself in a tight spot."

"And because you need me to stop the double from getting his hands on the package." Nancy finished distractedly. She spent a few seconds feeling sorry for Vanessa, who was off enjoying her honeymoon with no inkling that she was with the wrong man. Then she spent a few more seconds feeling jealous of her. "Mr. Gray..." she said, trying to keep her voice level, "I need to talk to Frank. Please. Where is he?"

"Since he's supposed to be with you, in Egypt, obviously he couldn't be treated in a public hospital; his family couldn't be notified. He's in one of our secret facilities, resting." Gray said cautiously. "The very one I'm in right now, in fact."

Nancy's eyes widened hopefully. "He's there, in the building with you? I need to talk to him, _please._" Hearing the real Frank's voice on the other end of the line would confirm the truth of this horrific nightmare... and yet at the moment, she had never needed to hear it more.

"Miss Drew... Nancy. You can't talk to him just now." Discomfort and sadness warred in the Gray Man's voice. "As a result of the head injury, Frank hasn't woken up since he was rescued. I'm afraid he's in a coma."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you to my reviewers for last chapter: Tigress2929, Really Cinderella, Caranath (Like you, I honestly thought she would ask to speak to him but she just refused...!), Lovepink, Ealasaid Una, MarvelAsh, supernaturalsam (thanks lol), the. vulture, and leyapearl. I can't tell you how much I appreciate getting your thoughts and reactions!

Enjoy if you can!

* * *

Nancy felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. For a moment, she found herself unable to say anything at all. She sat, frozen, her hand clenched around the phone as the Gray Man continued to talk into her ear.

"I'm very sorry, Nancy. Our medical team is doing the very best they can for him. They say it's likely he'll wake up in the next twenty-four hours."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Nancy said, her voice coming out as a croak.

"You wouldn't have believed me."

He was right again. And even though her instincts were telling her that the Gray Man was telling the truth about the situation, she knew she still wouldn't believe him completely unless she was able to talk to Frank... an option which was being conveniently denied to her.

The thought struck her that she should ask to talk to Joe, but she quickly dismissed it. If she couldn't trust herself to identify Frank, she certainly couldn't trust herself to identify Joe, especially over the phone. And if she should happen to be connected with real Joe... what could she say to him? Hers and Frank's mission had nearly gotten him and Frank both killed, and Vanessa was still in mortal danger. If it had just been Joe who was endangered, then she could apologize to him. But endangering Frank and Vanessa as well—that wasn't the kind of thing Joe would easily forgive.

What was worse: even if Joe didn't forgive her, he would be afraid for her. If she had to listen to Joe Hardy tell her to be careful, that he was worried about her, she knew she'd break down and cry, and falling apart was the one thing she couldn't allow herself to do. Not now.

"And-" Nancy forced herself to press on, despite feeling panic beginning to creep up on her. "And assuming that I do decide to believe you, what would you want me to do? About the fake?"

"Nancy," the Gray Man said, and his voice was dark and grave. "It is absolutely vital that the Assassins do not get their hands on the package. I cannot state this enough."

"Safety of the free world in my hands. Check." Nancy tried to joke, but it came out in strangled tones. "Can't you just have the contact give us a fake package?"

"That's what we'll have to do." Gray said seriously. "However, if the imposter realizes that he's been given the wrong information, you could be in danger. He might try to use you as a hostage, or worse. You must continue to act like you don't know any of this. Make him think you suspect nothing."

Nancy took in a shaky breath. "Easier said than done."

"I know." said the Gray Man. "But I think you can do it. I may not know anything about you besides a few notes in your dossier file, but I know Frank very well. You must be an exceptionally talented and resourceful woman to have gained his high esteem. And for what it's worth, Nancy, I'm sorry this happened to you both."

"Me too." Nancy whispered as the call disconnected. She stared at the phone in her palm for a long moment before switching it to silent mode and slipping it into the pocket of her robe. She was officially keeping secrets now.

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she looked at the glass balcony doors and contemplated the prospect of going back inside and lying down next to... Frank.

Or whoever he was.

It wasn't fair that she had to doubt him like this, that these blissful memories they'd been accumulating for the past few days were tainted, illegitimate. Even if everything the Gray Man told her turned out to be an elaborate lie, how could she ever think of their wedding, the reception, the flight to Egypt, their first nights in the honeymoon suite... Now that she was questioning their legitimacy, they would always leave a sour taste in her mouth.

And now she had to go back inside and act like nothing was wrong, like she wasn't climbing back into bed with a man she was no longer sure she could trust. Sitting on an empty balcony in a foreign country, with her friends and family miles and miles away and her husband asleep in the next room, she suddenly felt very, very alone.

She took a deep, fortifying breath and wiped away the tears that had begun to accumulate on her eyelashes. There was nothing to do now but be alert and be careful. If the man in her bed wasn't the true Frank, he would show himself eventually, and she would know when he did.

She slipped back through the sliding door. The break in the curtains let a sliver of bright moonlight fall across the bed, illuminating her husband's lean body. She willed herself to stay calm as she shed the robe and quickly donned a pair of shorts and a tank top before resettling herself between the sheets.

It was the only concession she allowed herself that she might be sleeping with a stranger.

* * *

When Nancy awoke the next morning she was alone in bed, as had come to be usual over the course of the trip. Frank was sitting on the other side of the room, a guidebook in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He looked over at her when she stirred. "Good morning, Nan."

"Hey." Nancy replied, sitting up and stretching. She had to refrain from staring into his face to look for clues, hints, as to whether he was the real Frank. Even though the Gray Man had told her that the Lazarus Clinic was able to make perfectly matched copies of its targets, she couldn't help but think that there must be _something_ they overlooked, something that she would be able to see. "You're up early again!" she complained. "You're making me feel like such a lazybones." If he noticed that she had acquired pajamas sometime between going to bed and waking up, he said nothing.

He chuckled in that way that always made her smile... but not today. "Well, lazybones, there's coffee here if you want it."

"Thanks, hon." For a fleeting second Nancy was sure he had poisoned the coffee he was offering her. But that was crazy. Even if he wasn't the real Frank, he would have no reason to kill her now, would he?

If she was going to question every word he said and fear every move he made, the next few days were going to be a very long honeymoon.

* * *

"Earth to Nancy..."

Startled, Nancy shot a wide-eyed look at her companion, the man she was becoming more and more certain wasn't Frank every minute. "Sorry. Yes?" They were tucked into a corner booth at the Cafe Isis, a little cafe in Old Cairo that they had visited and liked on their last trip to Egypt.

"I said, do you know what you're going to order?" he repeated.

"Oh!" Nancy said vaguely. She looked down at the menu, which was still in Arabic and still as undecipherable as it had been the first time she'd looked. She ran her finger down the list of dishes until she spotted a word that looked familiar—she thought it meant 'rice'. "You're going to go with... number five. What am I getting?" Since nearly all of the dishes were foreign to them, Frank had come up with a game for choosing their food, and they'd been playing it at every meal since they'd arrived in Egypt. They would order for each other—at random, if they weren't able to read the menu. Then they would try both meals.

"You're getting... two." Frank decided. The grin that lit his face looked almost boyish, and it made Nancy's chest ache. She wondered if the real Frank would have thought of this game too, if she were here with him. The fake Frank allegedly had most of the original's memories... exactly how alike were their thoughts?

"Do you remember what we ended up eating last time we were here?" Nancy asked suddenly.

Frank shook his head. "No, not really."

"Grilled pigeon." Nancy told him with a forced smile. It was something the real Frank should have remembered, wasn't it? They'd laughed about it at the time... but the time had been forever ago. Just because he didn't remember an entree from one lunch years ago didn't mean he was a fake.

"Oh... right." Frank said, smiling himself. "I can't believe you remember all this stuff. Guess that's what makes you such a great detective..."

She kept the smile pasted on her face. _Not great enough to see through __**you**_... she thought miserably.

"Hey," Frank said. He waited until she looked at him to continue, and then he placed his hand over hers on the table. "What's the matter with you today? You seem like you're a hundred miles away."

"What?" Nancy said. "Nothing." She shrugged. "I guess I'm a little tired. It took me a while to fall asleep last night, for some reason."

Which was completely true.

Frank squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, Nan. You're okay though, right? I mean, you'd tell me if anything was wrong?"

"Of course I would." Nancy said. She would have to watch herself. She'd promised the Gray Man that she would continue with the trip like nothing was wrong, and already Frank was getting suspicious. She even managed to lean in when Frank pulled her in for a kiss.

But she was relieved when the waiter arrived.

* * *

As exhausting as it was touring some of the lesser tombs and pyramids in the hot Egyptian sun on the few hours of sleep she'd managed to get, Nancy was dreading the night. She waited until Frank was in the shower to change into her pajamas and climb into bed. Then she endeavored to be asleep by the time he got out... a task more easily conceived than accomplished.

By the time the shower stopped running, she was still completely alert. She knew one thing: she couldn't let him make love to her, not tonight, not like this. Not while she had these gnawing, crippling doubts.

So she faked it.

She heard him come out of the bathroom, heard him give a little chuckle at seeing her already conked out, felt the bed sink as he settled in next to her, planting a quick kiss on her ear before returning to his own side of the bed. She heard the click of the lamp on the nightstand, and the room was plunged into darkness.

Then she lay in the dark, unmoving, for hours.

* * *

So preoccupied was she with her fears and worries that she almost didn't notice the light that brightened and faded unobtrusively in the pocket of the robe that was hanging on the door. When she finally did see it, her body stiffened reflexively. The phone.

She turned her head slowly, watching Frank's chest rise and fall until she was completely sure he was asleep. Then she crept out of bed and wrapped the robe around herself, heading out to the balcony once more.

Out of sight now, she pulled the phone from the pocket of the robe. The blinking light was indicating that she had received a text message. She opened it and saw that it was a short message. Three words.

_He's awake. Call._


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you to Caranath, ILoveMom, Stork Hardy, the. vulture, Tigress2929, missxsteph, Really Cinderella, and Wyomingcowgirl for their reviews!

Finally, Nancy gets to talk to Frank! Enjoy.

* * *

Nancy's hands shook as she pressed the call button.

_He's awake._

Frank was awake.

The Gray Man's voice sounded in her ear. "Hello, Nancy. How are you holding up?"

"Fine." Nancy said, brushing off the question. "Frank?"

"Physically, he's doing much better. He's been awake for several hours. Mentally... well. We, ah... notified him of the situation. I think it's taking some time to sink in."

Nancy suppressed a hysterical laugh. She'd been digesting the scenario for a day and a half and it still hadn't fully sunk in. "Let me talk to him."

"Nancy..." Gray hesitated. "I'm not sure this is the best idea. He's quite weak right now, and you're in a very vulnerable position..."

"_What?_" Nancy was suddenly gripped by anger. "Mr. Gray, I am completely alone out here. I need to talk to Frank in order to know that everything you've told me is true." Her voice softened as she continued, "And he's_ hurt_, Mr. Gray. Please, let me talk to him."

Gray sighed. "All right." he acquiesced. "But please, try not to upset him too much. Remember that he almost died."

"You think I could forget?" The Gray Man said nothing else, and Nancy listened intently as she was put on hold and transferred to another line. The next voice she heard would be Frank's. Her hands were still trembling as she held the phone to her ear. The phone rang and rang and rang.

Just as she was beginning to despair of it ever happening, the phone on the other end was picked up. "Hello?"

A wave of emotion crashed over her at the sound of his voice. She would know it anywhere... at least, she thought she would. "Frank..." his name came out like a plea, like a whisper.

She could hear rustling as he sat up in bed. "Nancy. My god, Nan, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I'm okay." Nancy said quickly. Her voice was watery, but there was nothing she could do about it. "I should be asking about you, Frank."

"I've... been better." he admitted.

"Me too."

There was a long silence. Finally, she asked him the one question she desperately needed to know the answer to before anything else. Before she could trust herself to trust him.

"Do you remember our first kiss?"

"Of course I do." She could actually hear the frown in his voice. He was confused by the abruptness of her question, concerned by her seemingly erratic train of thought, and possibly also offended that she thought he wouldn't remember. "What's this about, Nan?"

"Could-could you just tell me about it? Please?"

There was a pause, and then Frank said, "We were on Mount Mirage, in Colorado, following a suspect during a snowstorm. You and I were searching his cabin when an avalanche hit, and we were completely snowed in, trapped and freezing. We both knew that things didn't look good for us, but you didn't let me give up hope." He paused again, remembering. "And even though you were trying to be strong, you were shivering, so I wrapped you in a blanket and pulled you into my arms. I'd been wanting to do that since the start of that case. Since before the start."

"Frank-" Nancy whispered, but he kept talking.

"We just stood there together for a long time. Then the fire went out. I touched your face, and you closed your eyes." Frank said quietly. "And something inside me told me to kiss you, and I didn't want to fight it anymore, so I did. And you kissed me back."

"Yeah, I did." Nancy said. The tears were falling now, but she was trying not to let him hear it. There was no longer doubt in her mind that this was Frank. No one else could have known so exactly what had happened in that cabin, what they had felt...

Another long silence.

"So you're in Egypt."

"Yes." A single sob escaped her before she managed to get herself under control. "I'm so sorry, Frank. I'm so, so sorry."

"No, _I'm_ sorry, Nan." he responded, his voice breaking. "This is my fault. I never told you about the Lazarus Clinic. I let you agree to the mission without telling you what you'd be dealing with. If I _ever_ thought that anything like this would happen, I never would have... You have to believe me, Nan."

"I do believe you." she promised. "I do... but I'm still sorry."

"Don't be." Frank said softly. "You couldn't have known."

"I'm sorry you're not here." Nancy murmured. "No, wait. I'm sorry I'm not _there_, with you." Egypt was ruined for her now, and she was desperately homesick.

"Me too." He took a deep breath. "Nan, has _he... _has he hurt you at all?"

So far, they'd managed to avoid the topic of Frank II, and honestly, she had liked it better that way. Just thinking about how the double had conned her, how he'd taken advantage of her trust, made her feel like vomiting. "He hasn't hurt me." she said quietly. "He's... he acts like you, Frank."

"Dammit!" Frank burst out, and she heard a clattering on the other end that had probably resulted from him taking a frustrated swing at something.

She swallowed hard. "He's really an Assassin, then."

"Yeah." Frank said. He was breathing heavily. "Listen, Nancy, I've tangled with him before. He's deadly, and he's completely sadistic."

"I think," Nancy said archly, "That I got that, from the way that he hijacked our wedding."

"Please don't let him catch you off guard, Nan. Please. I can't lose you."

He was pleading with her, and Nancy realized that he was more afraid than angry. "I won't let him catch me off guard." she promised. "I'm supposed to—well, the Gray Man said to—" she sighed. "I'm going to act like nothing's wrong. I'm not going to give him a reason to hurt me." Her cheeks burned; she knew that he knew what this would entail: resuming _their_ honeymoon activities with the psychopath.

His voice was unreadable as he answered her. "Do whatever you have to do to stay alive, Nancy. That's the most important thing."

Through the sheer curtains, she saw the bathroom light come on. Her heart began hammering in her chest. "Oh god. He's awake. I've gotta go."

"I love you. Be careful."

"I love you too, Frank. So much." she said quickly. "I'll call you when I can."

She flipped the phone shut before he could say another word.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers: Caranath (you always seem to know where I'm about to take this lol), ILoveMom (thank you- I was ridiculously weirded out by that line when I wrote it so I'm glad you thought it worked!), the. vulture, LazyPanther, Stork Hardy, maggierose17, Tigress2929, Ealasaid Una, and Leann. And to supernaturalsam for being my sounding board, and for peer pressuring me into writing this story in the first place. :P Every once in a while I stall out writing, and all of your encouragement is what gets me going again!

Here's your next dose of misery and angst. Enjoy!

* * *

Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears as she stood on the balcony, the silver cell phone an incriminating piece of evidence in her hand. Frank's double wasn't just going to go back to bed. He was going to come out here. He was going to ask her what was wrong, and she would have to give an Oscar-worthy performance.

Her eyes darted to the potted plants on the corners of the balcony, and she reached out and slipped the phone into one of them, allowing the leafy fronds to hide it from view. Then she leaned on the balcony, facing out at the city, carefully constructing a facade of being carefree.

She heard the balcony door slide open behind her, but didn't react until his arms crept around her waist from behind. He pulled her tight against him, and she was glad she'd had the presence of mind to know that he was going to touch her, and to not slip the cell phone into her robe pocket.

"Is this what time you usually get up at?" she joked lightly. "Because that would explain why I'm usually asleep for it."

Frank II chuckled in a low voice. "I'm not up. And you shouldn't be either... Come back to bed."

His lips nuzzled into her temple, and suddenly Nancy had the strong conviction that she _couldn't_ do this. "I'm sorry." she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm just not feeling so great. I came outside for some fresh air."

"What's wrong?" He sounded concerned as he turned her around, touching her face with his hands. "You don't feel warm. In fact, you look a little cold."

It was true that she was shivering, but it wasn't from the cool night air. It felt strange, to be this close to him. This was the first time she'd seen him since she'd learned for certain that he wasn't Frank. "It's actually my stomach," she said. "Maybe it was something I ate." she smiled weakly. "Maybe it was something _you_ ordered for me."

"I hope not." he said with a frown. He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. "Can I get you anything? Water, or antacid?"

"I'll be all right in a bit." she said. "I think I just need to lie down." Pretending to be sick was weak of her, she knew. She certainly couldn't fake it for the rest of the honeymoon without him getting suspicious. If she was going to make him believe that she thought he was Frank, she was going to have to act like he was her husband instead of some concerned stranger.

But she could cross that bridge tomorrow, when she'd gotten through tonight.

Frank II kept an arm around her waist as he led her inside, helping her settle down on the bed. "Do you feel like you might throw up?" he asked, offering to bring her the wastebasket.

"No." Nancy said. "I don't think I will."

But when he lay back down beside her and slipped an arm around her waist, her pretend symptoms—the chills, the nausea—seemed to come rushing back.

* * *

"Look at this place." Nancy said, eyes wide as she surveyed the hustle and bustle of the Khan el Khalil open-air market in the Islamic section of Old Cairo. "It's incredible." She didn't even have to pretend to be amazed by the sight of the numerous shops and booths selling everything from rugs and clothing to food, jewelry, and ceramics where merchants and tourists haggled over the prices of wares. Restaurants and inns were scattered throughout the marketplace, and the fragrant smell of Arabic coffee hung in the air.

"The marketplace actually dates back to the fourteenth century." Frank II said as they strolled along the street. His hand was wrapped loosely around hers. "It's been in business ever since."

"You know something about everything, don't you?" Nancy laughed, then started guiltily. Every once in a while the double would say something so like Frank that she forgot, for a moment, who she was here with.

Sometimes it was tempting to _let_ herself forget.

Frank II shrugged modestly. "There's a lot of things I don't know."

He looked like Frank, he talked like Frank, he knew what Frank knew and he touched her the way Frank touched her. It was so hard to reconcile his image with the deadly killer she knew he was. The same lips that had said their marriage vows had been lying to her since the wedding. The same hand that was holding hers so gently had beaten the man she loved and left him to die. The thought made her shudder. No matter how sweet, how normal Frank II seemed, it was just as Gray had said: she was sleeping with an enemy spy.

"Do you know yet who our contact will be?" she asked.

"He probably won't be here today." Frank II said. "The rendezvous isn't supposed to be until tomorrow. I just wanted to scope the place out, get the lay of the land. Just in case."

Nancy nodded. "Good idea."

They passed a booth laden with wooden crafts, and the vendor began shouting at them in English, though he was barely discernible over the din of the marketplace. "Excuse me, miss, can I interest you in a gift for your family? Perhaps a photo frame that you can _mount_? These elaborate woodcuts are no _mirage_, either."

Nancy frowned, the merchant's strange way of talking causing her to turn back for a second glance. She met the man's eyes.

"So many good deals! An _avalanche_ of deals!" he cried.

_Mount Mirage._ _Avalanche._ It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Was the Network somehow trying to contact her by making a reference that they knew only she would catch? She looked at Frank II, but he didn't seem to have noticed. Frank II would surely have known about the avalanche on Mount Mirage, even if he didn't realize the emotional significance it had to Frank and Nancy, but it was possible that he just missed it since he hadn't put much thought into the years-old case.

Nancy waited until they were a ways past the vendor, then squeezed Frank's arm. "I saw a booth back there with a picture frame that would be perfect for my dad. I'm just going to run back and take a look. Be right back!" Then she turned around and ducked into the crowd before he could offer to accompany her.

When she returned to the merchant's stand, he reached out and grabbed her hand, shaking it enthusiastically. "Let me guess," he said loudly. "You are wanting souvenirs for your friends in America?"

When he released her, there was a scrap of paper in her hand with a few words scrawled on it. She read it surreptitiously. _Jewelry box. False bottom. Package, _it said. Nancy nodded, spotting an ornate jewelry box sitting right next to the merchant's elbow. "I was looking for something for my friend Bess. Perhaps a jewelry box."

"Ahh," There was approval in the vendor's eyes. "This is the one you want." He lifted the small box and put it into her hand. "It is one-of-a-kind. See that your friend gets it safely."

"Thank you, sir." Nancy said. She reached into her bag and drew out a five pound note, which she handed to the vendor, with the incriminating handwritten note folded inside it. Then she tucked the box into her purse and headed back in Frank II's direction.

It seemed she had just made her first Network package drop.

* * *

When they got back to the hotel that night they both called their parents from the pay phones in the lobby, just to check in. Nancy's call to Carson was quick and detached. She was worried that if she really began talking to him, he would be able to tell that she was afraid. So she kept it short, telling him that she was having a wonderful time, and that the hotel was beautiful, and that the sights were amazing. Before she hung up, she told him that she loved him... who knew if she'd get the chance to tell him again?

Frank II wrapped up his call with his parents a few minutes later. Nancy wondered if Fenton and Laura had sensed anything wrong with their son. If they had, no trace of it showed on Frank II's face; he looked as calm and unruffled as ever.

They went up to their room. The minute Nancy entered, she found herself flattened against the door, Frank II's body pressed up against hers. She gave a startled cry. She couldn't help it. Her first thought was that he knew she had the package, that he was finally done pretending to be Frank and playing nice.

Then his hands trailed over her hips, warm fingers creeping under her shirt. His lips found the place where her jaw met her throat and nuzzled there.

She fought to keep her body from tensing up as she realized that he _wasn't_ through playing nice. Not at all.

Her heart started pounding a thousand beats per minute, and for a second she thought she was going to pass out. He must have heard the increased rate of her breathing, because he chuckled softly against her neck. Finally, he lifted his head to kiss her mouth.

What could she do but kiss him back?

"I take it... you're not nervous... about the package drop, anymore?" she gasped out between kisses.

He grinned at her. "I'm looking forward to it."

The look he was giving her told her that he really _was_ looking forward to it. His eyes were burning with a fanatical fire that she had never seen in the eyes of the real Frank. No matter how his body was reacting to hers, what was really exciting him was the idea of getting his hands on state secrets.

This man was a terrorist, and she'd never been more conscious of it.

She dropped her head to his shoulder and fisted her hands in his shirt, pushing him back a step while pretending to lean on him. She hoped her voice sounded suitably resigned as she said, "Well, we have a big day tomorrow..."

Frank II stood still for a long, awful moment before stepping back. "You're probably right. We should get some sleep."

Nancy nodded, letting out a long sigh of relief that she knew he would mistake for chagrin. She watched as he stripped down and crawled into the bed. "Think I need a cold shower first, though." she told him, grinning weakly.

But the water she actually used was hot, hot, hot—as though she could boil away the feeling of his lips on her skin.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you to Confidential Brunette, Caranath, Shenice, unknnown, Stork Hardy, Tigress2929, Really Cinderella, leyapearl, Jabba1, and guest for their reviews, and to supernaturalsam for her advice and encouragement. Honestly, with this story, I wasn't expecting to get the fantastic response that I've been getting, so thank you all and please, keep it up!

* * *

She took a long time in the shower, hoping that Frank's double would be asleep when she got out, and he was. For the third night in a row, she found herself shivering in the relative safety of the balcony, the silver phone clutched in her hand.

"I got the package." was the first thing she said when the Gray Man picked up.

"Excellent." said Gray. "We weren't sure if you'd pick up on the code, but Frank assured us you would recognize the significance of the words, and he was right."

"He usually is." Nancy said softly.

"You're a smart woman, Nancy. I think there may be a spot for you in our organization, once this is all over."

Nancy let out a bitter laugh of surprise. "Mr. Gray, once this is all over, I never want to have anything to do with your organization again. Ever."

"Frank said you'd say that, as well." Gray acknowledged. "In any case, Nancy, there is top-secret intelligence information on a flash drive hidden in a false bottom of the jewelry box you acquired today. Keep it in your carry-on; you'll find you'll have no trouble getting it past customs, and it is important that you know where it is at all times. Your biggest concern is that the double must not realize that his package is a fake, and that you have the real one."

"Actually," Nancy said icily. "My biggest concern is that my _husband_ is a fake, and that I'd much prefer to have the real one. What exactly are you planning to do about that?"

"When your plane lands in New York, there will be a team of trained agents waiting to take him into custody." Gray promised. "I will personally be there."

"And Frank?"

"If he is well enough," the Gray Man allowed, "I doubt there is anything I could do to stop him."

Nancy felt a swell of affection for Frank in her heart. Mr. Gray was right: if it was physically possible for Frank to be there for her, he would be. That was the kind of man he was. "Can I talk to him again?"

"Of course." Gray said. "Just don't forget what I've told you."

"Of course." Nancy waited again as the call was transferred to Frank's room.

He picked up quickly. "Nan?"

She smiled softly. "Hey baby. How are you feeling?"

"Better." he said. "Now that I can hear your voice."

It was so like Frank to pretend that everything was all right, just to keep her from worrying about him. The Gray Man had told her that Frank had been badly beaten and suffered a fairly severe head trauma, but she had never heard a word about his condition from Frank himself. "I'm going to worry about you whether you complain about your injuries or not, Hardy." she said. "You might as well tell me how bad it is, or I'll just be imagining something worse."

"It's just some bruising, a few cracked ribs, and a killer headache." he promised. "Trust me, Drew, you've seen me look worse than this."

"I don't believe you." Nancy said, feeling a lump form in her throat when he called her Drew. She shouldn't be Drew anymore... but she was.

"I'm just worried about you, Nan." he said then, his voice softening. "It's driving me crazy not knowing where you are, whether you're safe. I couldn't believe it when the Gray Man told me you were still going to pick up the package, even with that psychopath with you. I just feel so helpless."

"Just get better, Frank." Nancy said, trying to swallow past the lump. "I'm coming home in four days, and then I'm going to want to marry you for real, so... just, get better, okay?"

He was silent for a long time. "You still want to marry me?" he said finally.

"...Yes." Nancy said, frowning, blotting her watery eyes on the sleeves of her robe. "I mean, we'll have to do it alone. Or maybe just with Joe and Van, since everyone thinks we're already..." she trailed off. "Don't you still want to... Oh god." The thought had just crossed her mind that maybe Frank _wouldn't_ want to marry her, knowing what she had done. How she had married his double, lived with him, slept with him, never detecting the difference between them. "Frank, I-" She didn't know exactly what she was going to say to him, plead with him, convince him... tell him she understood.

But he stopped her. "Of course I want to marry you, Nan, I love you. I love you." he sighed. "Joe and I just thought that what happened, with the doubles, might... scare you and Van off. And we couldn't really blame you. What happened... It's my fault."

Nancy's eyes widened. The possibility hadn't occurred to her that, after everything, she wouldn't end up with Frank. "I don't scare easy, Frank Hardy." she reprimanded softly. "And I can't speak for Vanessa, but I doubt she does either."

"I know you don't." Frank said patiently. "But... just know that I'm not going to hold you to anything, okay?"

Nancy felt like he'd punched her in the stomach. "Frank..." her voice was hoarse with unshed tears. "I need to know that you're behind me on this. I can't do this without you. Please." Her words were beginning to take on a panicky edge, but she couldn't stop them.

"I'm always going to be behind you, Nan. I just wish there was more that I could do."

"Then why does it sound like you're giving up on us?" she accused.

"No, Nan. That's not what I meant." Frank said hastily.

"I can't fight with you." Nancy said desperately. "He's going to see that something is wrong. He's going to look at me and know that I'm upset!"

"I'm sorry!" Frank said, "I'm sorry, Nan. I didn't mean it. Don't get upset. It's only for a few more days. You can pull this off, and we'll get past it, together. You can pull it off, okay? You're the most amazing woman I know. That's why I love you."

"I love you too." Nancy said quietly, somewhat mollified. He was right. She could keep up the act for a few more days. And then the Gray Man and his team would meet them at the airport and the nightmare would be over. "And then we'll get married." she finished aloud.

"Yes. If you still want to, of course we will." Frank promised.

_If you still want to...? _Nancy's face hardened. "Fine." she said briskly. "I have to go back to bed. Good night, Frank."

She ended the call and dropped the phone into the pocket of her robe before pressing her hands to her face, willing herself not to cry. _He isn't giving up on us. He still wants to marry me, _she told herself.

But she wasn't quite convincing.

* * *

If Frank II was trying to hide his excitement about the impending package drop, he was doing a lousy job of it. True, he was outwardly calm, but Nancy could see the way his eyes glowed with anticipation, and it was frightening to her. Clearly, this man knew what he was getting into. What would she do if he recognized that the Network was feeding him false information?

They were back in the Khan el Khalil, being jostled about by the midday crowds. Nancy wasn't surprised that the Network had set the rendezvous for the busiest part of the day: uninvolved bystanders tended to make excellent distractions and terrible witnesses.

On their way to the meeting point, Nancy looked for the vendor who had given her the jewelry box yesterday. He was gone, his booth empty and his wares vanished. Another thing that shouldn't have surprised her.

To her amazement, the package drop went off without a hitch, as Frank II engaged a "produce vendor" in a coded conversation about pistachios and received for his trouble a paper sack containing an external hard drive. Though the incognito Network agent was certainly under orders to give the package to the double, Nancy wondered how Frank II knew Frank's code words. Trying to figure out just how the Assassins had managed to infiltrate Frank's life left her feeling paranoid and violated... two feelings which, unfortunately, were well on their way to becoming permanently ingrained in her psyche.

Once the package was in Frank II's hands they headed straight back to the hotel, as Nancy had feared they would. She attempted to stall by suggesting they stop in a few of the shops, or take a detour for lunch, but was met by looks of frustration and confusion.

"Come on, Nan, we really shouldn't be carrying this around in public for any longer than we have to." he pointed out rationally, although that spark of crazy fanaticism was still present in his eyes. "We'll eat after we've gotten it back to the hotel."

In their suite at the hotel, Nancy managed to score a minor victory by convincing him to lock the hard drive in the safe and take her for an early dinner at the restaurant downstairs. Frank II was polite and engaged throughout dinner, keeping up his act like a true professional, but she could tell that he was impatient to return to the room and examine the hard drive.

"Frank," she protested as she entered the suite to find him already unlocking the wall safe. "What are you doing? The Network just asked us to bring the package home with us, not to find out what's inside it."

Frank II withdrew the hard drive from the safe, along with his laptop computer. "Come on, Nance. Aren't you curious about what's on this? What kind of information could be so important that the Network's footing the bill for this entire vacation just for couriers for it?"

Nancy pursed her lips. The double knew her well; appealing to her curiosity was an almost-infallible tactic. Truth be told, she _did _want to know what was on the hard drive, was_ dying_ to know what secrets were worth ruining her life to protect. But letting the double access the fake package was a risk she wasn't willing to take. "Network secrets?" Nancy repeated casually. "Ha, we're probably better off not knowing."

Frank II was booting up his laptop. While he was waiting for it to start up, he turned to her and took her hands. "Nan, Network or not, we're responsible for putting this information, whatever it is, into the hands of some very shady people. I'd really like to know what we've roped ourselves into before we go handing it over."

This, too, would have been an incredibly persuasive argument coming from the real Frank, but Nancy refused to let herself be swayed. "I understand where you're coming from, Frank, but I just don't think it's a good idea. Besides, I'm sure it'll be impossible to decrypt."

Frank II grinned. "Nothing's _impossible_ to decrypt, Nan. It's only a matter of time. And computer power doesn't hurt either." He patted his laptop fondly. Though it looked like an ordinary computer, Nancy was well aware of the time and money Frank had spent building, rebuilding, modifying, and customizing it. Joe often called it Frank's "pet." Now Nancy was wishing they had a dog instead.

Frank II connected the hard drive to the laptop and, just as they'd expected, it was protected by a series of passwords. "I've got a few programs on here that might be able to crack this." he said. On his face was a look of deep concentration, one Nancy had seen many times. If this man was anything like the real Frank, and he was, that look meant that he would be sitting in front of that computer all night, until he deciphered every cipher that hard drive could throw at him.

And Nancy couldn't let that happen. She had to get him out of the room, keep him too busy to focus on the fake package, which she hoped, for everyone's sake, was just as well encrypted as if it had been real.

After a moment, she decided on a plan of action. She'd get dressed up and guilt him into taking her out. They'd been planning to explore some of the city's nightlife, and there were plenty of bars and clubs that catered to the tastes of American tourists. They'd go out, do some dancing... if she was lucky, maybe she could even get a few drinks in him. Anything to break his focus. And if he woke up with a hangover tomorrow at noon? That would be a godsend.

He seemed completely oblivious to the world as she collected a change of clothes from her closet. She chose the form-fitting, burgundy-colored minidress that she'd only bought on the advice of Bess, and a pair of strappy heels that she knew made her legs look like they went on for miles. She frowned at the outfit in her hands for a minute; there was a big difference between convincing him to take her out and actually seducing him, and she didn't think she'd ever be ready to cross that line. She comforted herself by pulling a modest black wrap off its hanger as well. She always felt less vulnerable when her shoulders weren't bare.

She stepped into the bathroom and changed into the new outfit, putting on her makeup and sweeping her hair up with a jeweled clip. Then she sat on the rim of the bathtub to work her shoes on. When she was finished, she looked at herself in the mirror, silently readying herself. She wished for the thousandth time that Frank was here with her.

It made her uneasy to think of Frank now, remembering how they'd left off last night. She understood that he had only been trying to be kind, that he had only been telling her that he recognized that this experience was traumatic for her, and that if she needed some time apart from him he would understand. But she'd been so upset at him for even suggesting it that she hadn't even given him the chance to say good night before she hung up in anger. She hoped she'd get a chance to call him back tonight so that she could apologize.

Her robe hung on the back of the bathroom door, where she'd left it after her shower this morning, and she stroked one hand over it, needing to feel the reassuring weight of the phone in its pocket before she could enter the bedroom. Her heart skipped a beat as she felt nothing but soft cloth. She ran her hand over the pocket again, then over the one on the other side, but felt no telltale lump.

She yanked the robe off the door, shoving her hands into both pockets, only to find them both completely and horrifyingly empty.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks a million to Shenice, Really Cinderella, Stork Hardy, MarvelAsh, Caranath, ILoveMom, Tigress2929, Layla, Jabba1, leyapearl, and Ealasaid Una for their reviews on the last chapter. You guys rock! And thanks to supernaturalsam, without whom this story would be (much more of) a disorganized mess.

Horrible things happen in this chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

Nancy could have sworn her heart literally stopped with fear as she realized that the Network cell phone was no longer in her robe. That phone was her only lifeline to the Network, to Frank, to her real life outside of this nightmare of a honeymoon. How could she have lost it? How could she have let it out of her sight for even a minute?

She tore the bathroom apart furiously, shaking out towels, digging through the wastebasket, checking the pockets of Frank's robe, of the pants she'd been wearing just minutes ago. Finally she was forced to admit that the silver cell phone was nowhere in the bathroom. Had she left it in the plant on the balcony again and just forgotten? Had the maid come in to clean and replaced her robe with a fresh one, not noticing the contents of its pockets?

_Or had the double discovered the phone?_

She shook the thought out of her head before it could cause her to panic and do something stupid. If Frank II had found the phone, he would have confronted her about it. If he realized she was onto him, he would have tried to kill her by now, wouldn't he? Surely he would have done something, would have somehow acted differently...!

There was always the slim hope that he'd found the phone and didn't realize what it signified. That he didn't recognize the only number dialed or received as a Network line. She had deleted the text messages Gray had sent her, hadn't she? Yes, she had. There was always the chance that he thought it was her personal cell phone.

But it was unlikely.

If Frank II had found it, she didn't see what reason he would have for taking it without letting her know. She swallowed, realizing that she would have to proceed as though she had simply lost the phone. She would just have to look for it later. Finding it missing had shaken her, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

She took a few deep breaths to compose herself before pasting on a smile and opening the bathroom door. One look at Frank II nearly gave her her second heart attack of the hour. He was still sitting in front of his computer, but his gaze wasn't fixed on the screen.

Instead, he was looking at the ornate jewelry box in his hands.

"I got that at the marketplace yesterday." Nancy said, the explanation coming out just a little too loudly. Thankfully, her voice wasn't as shaky as her knees were, or she really would have given him something to be suspicious about. "I thought it was perfect for Bess."

"It's nice." he agreed, placing the box back into her purse. "Sorry, Nan. I was just looking for a pen in your bag..." he trailed off as he got a look at her outfit. "Wow. You look..."

_So he didn't know what it was?_ Nancy somehow managed to get her racing heartbeat and her quivering knees under control enough to step towards him. "I look...?" she repeated with a sultry smile.

"Incredible." he finished, straightening in his chair. "But what are you all dressed up for?"

She sauntered forward, feeling oddly comforted that his attention now seemed to be more on her legs than on the jewelry box _or_ the computer screen. "I thought we could go out." she suggested. "We talked about going out for drinks, maybe find a club with some live music, low lighting..."

He ran his hand through his hair, looking torn. "I don't know, Nan. I mean, I thought I'd spend some time working on decrypting this..."

"We can do that _later_..." Nancy murmured. "Let's do something fun, Frank. It's our honeymoon."

"How about we go out tomorrow night instead?" he asked. "You know me. If I stop working on this now, I'll be thinking of nothing else all night." He tore his gaze from her and fixed it back on the laptop, typing a few commands into the program.

Nancy made a decision, right then, that she was going to take this as far as she had to. It might have been her misery over losing the phone, or the scare she'd had when she'd seen him holding the jewelry box, or the way every keystroke he typed brought him closer and closer to the deadly discovery that the package was fake... In any case, she couldn't exactly say she was thinking clearly when she made her next move: stepping behind the imposter and kneading his shoulders with her hands.

"Wanna bet?" she whispered into his ear. Then she took the dangerous gamble of reaching out and closing his laptop.

"Nancy..." The double's eyes flashed with anger as the programs he was running shut down, but there were other emotions there as well. "You know, you make a good point."

"About going out?"

"About doing something fun." he answered in a low, husky voice. In one motion he stood and turned, sweeping her into his arms and joining his lips to hers.

Nancy's eyes shut automatically as the kiss deepened. "We'll... we'll never get out if we start doing this." she protested weakly.

"And is that _really _a problem?" Frank II asked, peeling the wrap off of her shoulders. Goosebumps spread over her skin as his hot mouth explored the newly-exposed flesh.

_This is not Frank. This is not Frank._ Warning bells were going off in her head, but she shut her eyes tightly and ignored them. "No," she whispered back. "It's really _not_."

* * *

Her sleep was fraught with nightmares of secrets and death, and so it was almost a relief when she startled herself awake, finding herself back in the the familiar hotel suite, morning light streaming through the gauze curtains.

Until she tried to move and realized she couldn't.

She was lying on her back, her arms splayed across the bed. But when she tried to pull them in, she was met only with a jingling sound and the resistance of cold metal against her wrists. She'd come straight out of one nightmare and into another.

She was handcuffed to the bed.

Her eyes closed tightly and she tried to continue feigning sleep as she slowly tested her restraints. They were securely attached to the bedposts, and tight around her wrists, though not painfully so. It didn't help that the events of last night were flooding back to her in a torrent, taunting her. Had her actions been for naught? In trying to distract the double, had she gotten distracted herself?

"Good morning, lover."

She went stock still. The voice was Frank's, but the tone was unfamiliar, hard, cruel.

"As much as I enjoy watching you try not to panic while you're testing those cuffs, you don't need to pretend you're asleep anymore."

All Nancy could think of to do in this situation was bluff. She let her eyes flutter open and cast a panicked glance around the room. "Frank? What... what is this?"

The double was sitting in front of his computer again, leaning back in his chair, looking utterly relaxed. She thought, though, that she detected a hint of frustration lurking in his expression.

She kept her eyes wide and rattled the handcuffs. "Frank! I'm not comfortable with this. Let me go!"

He shook his head. "You're a good actress, Nancy, but not that good. Knock it off with the innocence act. I think we both know what's going on here."

"I don't know what you're talking about..." she pleaded. "You're acting crazy, Frank!"

He stood up and walked towards the bed. "Not so very crazy..." he protested. "It's the only logical course of action when one encounters an enemy spy."

"Handcuffing her to a bed in her underwear?" Nancy challenged sarcastically, giving up on playing dumb. Somewhere, though, she was grateful that he'd left her her bra and underwear; this whole situation would somehow be a hundred times more unbearable if she was still naked. "Somehow I doubt that's official Assassin protocol."

"Clearly, you know nothing about the Assassins." Frank II said with a disarming grin that only served to infuriate her more.

"So enlighten me." Nancy spat.

"No," Frank II said, leaning against the end of the bed, just a few inches too far for her to reach him with a kick. "You enlighten me. You knew I was an Assassin when you went to bed with me last night, didn't you?"

She didn't answer.

Frank II laughed. "That is priceless. _Priceless. _Little Miss Perfect Nancy Drew, seducing her enemies in the name of international intrigue." he smirked. "It might even have worked, if I hadn't already been on to you." The rage clearly displayed on her face only seemed to amuse him further. "What? Was it not good for you?"

"You're disgusting." she gritted out.

He held up his hands. "You're the one who started it. I would have been perfectly content to spend the night uncovering your government's sensitive military information until you started parading around in that little red dress... Of course, this is a good look on you too." he said, gesturing to her current state.

Nancy scowled. "How did you know I knew who you were?" she demanded, changing the subject.

Frank II shook his head. "Before I answer that... why don't you tell me what the Gray Man told you, when he called you on _this_?" He dug his hand into his pocket and produced the silver cell phone.

Nancy paled, but raised her chin defiantly. "I asked my question first."

"Darling... that position you're lying in?" Frank II said indulgently, smugly letting his eyes rake over her body. "That is _not_ what we call a position to negotiate."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you to Shenice, Caranath, Confidential Brunette, Guest (sorry it's not your cup of tea, but I understand!), Ealasaid Una, Tigress 2929, Really Cinderella, and ILoveMom (Thank you! My favorite part of Evil Frank is his one-liners lol), for all your feedback and enthusiasm. And thank you to supernatualsam, who routinely lets me ramble to her about the tiny details of the story.

I have been writing this story at a furious pace, and I think I'm near the end (I'm about five chapters ahead of you guys) so I'll tell you what: the sooner you review, the quicker I'll post. Does that sound like a win for all involved? :D

Enjoy chapter 9!

* * *

"Fine." Nancy said, her eyes flashing at the false Frank standing smugly in front of her. "What if I refuse to talk?"

Frank II rolled his eyes. "Then things get messy. Don't be like that. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"Well these handcuffs aren't exactly the ultimate in comfort."

"We can play games later, Nancy." he said dismissively. "Right now I want you to tell me what the Gray Man told you. How much does the Network know?"

Nancy kept her mouth stubbornly shut.

"Alright." Frank II sighed. "I'll help you get started. A Network agent must have slipped you that phone at some point after we got to Egypt. They wanted to contact you because..." He frowned for a minute, then snapped his fingers. "Because they found the bodies."

Nancy bristled as the double referred to the real Frank and Joe as _bodies_, but she didn't correct him. At this point, any information that she knew and he didn't felt like an asset to her.

He must have seen her stiffen, because he gave her a faux-sympathetic smile. "That must have been tough for you to hear, that Frank Hardy was dead." he said quietly. The smile widened into a grin. "And to know that I was the one who killed him... that must have been terrible for you. And the funny thing is that I probably couldn't have beaten him in a fair fight, but I had the element of surprise... he was busy getting ready for his wedding. So sad."

Even knowing that Frank was still alive, the heartless way in which his double delivered his speech made her shiver. "You're a monster."

"Among other things." he chuckled. Then he folded his arms. "So, the Gray Man told you that your beloved fiance was dead, and that I was an Assassin plant. He probably told you to keep acting like everything was normal, which you tried to do. Admirably, by the way. As I said, you're quite the little actress."

"Excuse me if your compliments don't mean much." Nancy said flatly. For the first time, she found herself wishing that Frank's powers of deduction weren't quite so keen.

"Now, what did he tell you to do about the package? Were you supposed to steal it from me? Swap it with a fake? What?"

"Sorry, hon." Nancy said bravely. "A girl's got to have her secrets."

He stepped forward again, and for a minute Nancy was sure he was going to hit her. Instead, he crouched down by the side of her bed and took her face firmly between his warm hands. "Nancy." he said quietly. "Frank is dead, and the Network is partially responsible for that. You don't have to continue their mission. You owe them nothing."

Nancy remained tight-lipped.

"I know that you're brave, Nancy." Frank II said softly. But there was an undercurrent of iron in his voice. "But you're also very smart. Don't make the mistake of thinking you have nothing left to lose. If you tell me what I want to know, you could still walk away from this."

Nancy frowned. "You aren't going to kill me?"

He took his hands off her face, using one of them to smooth her hair back behind her ear. "I don't want to kill you."

He'd said something similar earlier, about not wanting to hurt her. Not for the first time, she wondered how much of the real Frank was actually in the double. If there was anything inside of him that actually cared for her, maybe that was something she could use against him.

Behind them, his computer beeped and he turned around eagerly to look at the screen. Even from her position on the bed, Nancy could see with a sinking heart that it read "Decryption Complete." Frank II leaped to his feet, his attention deserting her immediately as he was finally allowed access to the hard drive.

"Hey!" she yelped, rattling the handcuffs, trying to bring his focus back to her. "Are you just going to leave me like this?"

He looked mildly surprised. "Yeah, I am."

"That's demented. I'm not even dressed!" she protested.

"It's really nothing I haven't seen before."

She scowled at him. "Well I'm cold."

"I'm sure you've survived worse. Besides, if you have no clothes, you might think twice about trying to escape." he grinned. "Pretty sure this is one of those countries where they tend to frown upon women walking around naked."

She rattled the chains again, angry now. "You can't be serious! At least let me put on a shirt!"

"Behave." he said absently. He was sitting down now, his attention again devoted to his computer. "If you're good, I'll think about it."

Nancy was fuming. If there was one thing she was not planning on doing for this jerk, it was _being good_. She opened her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could.

Frank II was on top of her in an instant, one hand over her mouth and one knee in her stomach. His other hand closed around her windpipe, choking off the scream. He kept the hand there as she thrashed, fighting for air. After a minute or so, just when she began to think she might pass out, he let go of her throat, though his other hand was still clamped over her lips.

"I know I look like your precious dead fiance," he growled in a dark voice completely unlike Frank's. "But I'm not him. And you should really try to remember that." His eyes were so dark they were almost black now, and flashing with malice.

There was nothing she could do now, not with his hand over her mouth and his knee pressing painfully into her torso. Her throat felt tender and bruised. Too late, she remembered what Frank had said, about his double being deadly and sadistic. She had promised him she wouldn't antagonize the double, wouldn't give him any reason to hurt her, and here she was, doing that very thing.

"I said that I didn't want to kill you. It was never my mission to do so. But don't make the dire mistake of thinking that I won't."

Nancy widened her eyes and nodded as best she could. Meekly submitting to this treatment went against everything she believed in... but maybe, for now, it was the best option.

There was a knock on the door.

"Excuse me? Is everything okay in there?"

"Just a minute!" Frank II called at the door. Then he leaned in very close to Nancy's face. "Make one move I don't like, and I promise you you will regret it." He let go of her mouth, stood up, pulled the key to the handcuffs out of his pocket, and freed her. As she rubbed her sore wrists in relief, he tossed her a robe. It didn't take any convincing to make her wrap it tightly around herself. Before she could even contemplate her next move, she found herself being grabbed around the waist.

With one arm wrapped firmly around Nancy, Frank II used the other to open the door to the suite. "Hi there." he said to the woman on the other side.

She was middle-aged and dark-haired, wearing a maid's uniform. Her cart was sitting a few yards down the hall. Nancy recognized the woman, had seen her several times over the course of the week. In fact, she'd brought them towels just yesterday. "I hear screaming." the maid said in broken English. "Everything is all right, yes?"

"We're fine, thanks." Frank II confirmed with a smile and a nod. "You'll have to excuse my wife."

Nancy tried to ignore the iron grip he had on her hipbone. She forced a smile onto her face as well. "Yes," she said. "I'm sorry I screamed. I saw a spider, and it startled me, that's all."

The maid didn't look convinced, but Nancy wasn't sure if it was because she was suspicious, or because she didn't speak much English. She didn't have much hope for the former. "But you are okay now?" she asked slowly.

"I'm okay. Thank you." Nancy said. She couldn't think of any way to signal to the woman that she was in danger with the double standing right beside her, scrutinizing her every move.

Perhaps it would be best for everyone if she couldn't manage to get out a distress call... the Assassins weren't exactly known for their gentle treatment of innocent bystanders. She tried to convince herself... but still, she felt her heart sink when the woman appeared satisfied with their cover story. And why wouldn't she be? She'd seen them together all week, looking happy and in love.

When she went on her way, Frank II closed the door and turned to Nancy. "See, was that so hard?" he said in a patronizing tone. "Just for that, I'll let you keep the robe."

Nancy grimaced but said nothing, privately thinking that if he'd wanted the robe back, he would have had to peel it off her dead body. It was feeling like her only friend in the world at the moment.

"Now, if you could just get back on the bed..."

Nancy folded her arms across her chest. "Just tell me what you're going to do with me."

He was clearly impatient to examine the hard drive. He sighed in annoyance. "Look, I'm just trying to get this package back to America, same as you. But now I know the Network's on to me, and I just like having you between me and them. Physically, if possible. The minute we step off the plane in New York, I'm gone, and you're free to go on with whatever's left of your life. So get back on the bed."

Nancy's eyes narrowed. "And _why_ don't you want to kill me?"

"At the moment," Frank II said in a warning tone, "I kind of _do_. Get on the bed!"

She stood resolutely, not taking a step. "You don't have to-"

She was cut off as he smacked her with enough force to make her ears ring. She stumbled back, her hand pressed to her burning cheek, her breathing ragged. Her promise to Frank to _be good_ was one she couldn't keep anymore. She couldn't let him chain her up again, because once he realized he had the wrong package, she would be history.

She searched for a weapon, but found nothing within arm's reach. He lunged for her, and although he was fast, she was more agile, deftly ducking out of his reach and sprinting for the door. As she passed the table, she scooped up her purse, the purse that held the real package. That momentary delay cost her, as the double managed to grab the fine woven rug that ran the length of the suite and yank it from under her feet. She tumbled forward, hitting her head on the tiled floor. Her purse fell to the ground and opened, its contents rolling everywhere.

She tried to get up and run, but she was dazed from the blow to the head, and he was too strong for her. He wrestled her back to the bed, refastening the restraints around her wrists. Then he covered her mouth with a strip of duct tape.

Barely winded from the scuffle, he stood over her as she glared at him balefully. "Don't look at me like that. It's nothing personal." he protested. Then he fixed her with a cold grin. "Well... not on my end. For you? This probably feels personal."

* * *

Nancy was startled out of sleep by a loud clattering sound.

She really hadn't meant to drift off, but Frank II had been poring over the contents of the hard drive for hours, and closing her eyes had helped to lessen the painful throbbing of her head...

Opening her eyes, she let out a startled cry which was muffled by the tape. Frank II was no longer at the table studying the Network's decoy package, but standing over her bed, a look of unbridled fury on his face. The chair he'd been sitting in lay on its back several feet away. Reaching out, he ripped the strip of duct tape from her lips. The sting brought tears to her eyes.

"Where is it, bitch?" he hissed. Nancy instinctively shrank as far away from him as she was able as he held up the hard drive, torn straight from the laptop with cords and wires still attached. "_Where's the real package?_"


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you Caranath, Shenice, SC15, Really Cinderella, the. vulture, alivia, and missxsteph for leaving me some feedback. Really. Thanks, guys. :)

Yeah, it's only been a day since I updated. Who cares? Just don't forget to review!

* * *

Nancy stared up at him, trapped and helpless. She tasted blood on her lips where the duct tape had ripped her skin, but that was the least of her problems at the moment. "I don't know what you're talking about." she said quietly.

"This," Frank II dropped the hard drive on the nightstand. "Doesn't tell me anything that I don't already know. It's a decoy. I know the Network told you. _Where is the real one?_"

"I don't know!" Nancy lied desperately. "I thought that was it! All the Network told me to do was act like nothing was wrong so that they could catch you when we got back to New York. They didn't say anything about a fake!"

"Nancy..." the double growled. "I thought we had an agreement. You were going to tell me what I need to know, and I wasn't going to kill you. Now tell me where it is."

"I don't know!" Nancy insisted. Something told her that, no matter what the double said, the minute he was sure he had the information he had come for, he would get rid of her. If he found out it was here, in this hotel room with them... she was as good as dead. "Maybe they scrapped our mission and sent someone else to get the package, I don't know. I thought we already had it."

"If I find out you're lying..." His eyes widened, and Nancy's heart stopped as Frank II stomped back to her scattered possessions of her spilled purse and went through them one by one, opening her lipsticks, her compact, her wallet, flipping through her notebook... She noticed with chagrin that he pocketed a handful of bobby pins. She could have used those to open her cuffs.

He was smart. He'd seen that she tried to take her purse with her during her escape attempt, and he was spot on in thinking that meant something in the purse was vitally important. If she was lucky, he would think she was just trying to take it because it contained her wallet and passport...

If she was unlucky, he would spot the false bottom in the jewelry box.

She twisted her neck, straining to see if he was examining the box, but she couldn't see it anywhere, even as he dumped her possessions back in her purse, one by one, as he finished studying them. Looking around the room, she spotted the box. It had slid under the dresser when it fell, and it was now hidden by a shadow. She forced her eyes away from its hiding place. Frank II might not notice it on his own, but if he saw her staring at it, he would be sure to see.

Finally, he'd replaced all of the fallen items he could find. He let out a hiss of frustration, throwing the bag onto an empty chair.

"I told you I didn't have it." Nancy said.

The fire in his eyes when he looked up at her reminded her of a raging bull. She braced herself for another physical attack, but it didn't come. Instead, the double narrowed his eyes just slightly, moving his lips as though he was mumbling silently to himself. Nancy had seen that look many times, when Frank was in danger and looking for a way out.

It meant he was devising a plan.

Finally, he went back to his laptop case, this time drawing out a folder that contained their itinerary and all of their travel arrangements. He carried it over to the phone and dialed an outside line. After a few minutes, he spoke.

"Hello, my wife and I have tickets with your airline, but we'd like to change our flight..."

Nancy listened apprehensively as Frank II extended their honeymoon by more than a week. Her heart sank. Since she'd found out that he was an imposter, she'd been able to comfort herself by counting down the days until she could get home. Having the finish line swept away from her now that she was only two days away only left her with the miserable realization that she probably wasn't _going_ home.

She tried to keep her voice steady and cold as he hung up the phone. "What, you thought we could use more time to see the sights? Maybe go back on up to Aswan where we had our _first kiss_?"

He chuckled. "We did have our first kiss there, right? I don't really have memories of that, but you were talking like what happened there was significant, so I took a guess."

Nancy said nothing, maintaining a stony silence.

"It was a good guess though, right?" he asked conversationally. "I mean, I really only know the stuff the Assassins were able to get from Frank and Joe's case files, and a few witness interviews... But you and I spent all week there pretending to be married, I saved your life, sparks probably flew...?" Again, she said nothing, and he laughed. "And here we are again, in Egypt, pretending to be married. Funny, huh?"

"Hilarious." Nancy said dryly, unable to contain herself any longer. "You know you're not him, right? Do you even know who you really are?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. For all intents and purposes, I'm him now. I've got his looks, his passport and his driver's license, a passable set of his memories, and his wife. And with him gone, there's no one to challenge me for it." He grinned coldly. "You know, it's probably a good thing he's dead. I know for a fact that it would break his heart to know you're here with me, like this."

Nancy's eyes stung at the criticism because she knew, somewhere, that Frank II was right. Not about Frank being dead... but about her having broken his heart. She wished, more than anything, that she hadn't hung up on him so hastily the last time they'd talked. She wished she could call him just one more time, to ask him to forgive her. But it was looking less and less like she'd ever talk to the real Frank—_her_ Frank—again.

"But you're really someone else." she gritted out, trying not to lose her composure. She was feeling him out now, trying to figure out if there were any chinks in his armor, any weaknesses she could exploit. She couldn't let him turn the tables and exploit her weakness—Frank—any further than he already had. "Don't you have family and friends who will miss you now that you've just disappeared and become Frank?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. Maybe. But I don't know or care about them anymore. If you're trying to give me some kind of existential crisis, you're wasting your time, Nan. I'm Frank, and I've been Frank for as long as I can remember."

"But you know you're not." Nancy argued. "You remember planning all this with the Assassins, don't you? You remember attacking Frank and Joe on their wedding day? You remember threatening my life? Frank would never do those things, and you know it."

"All right then." Frank II said. "I'm an altered version of him, then. I have my objectives, objectives that the original didn't have, and I'm going to carry them out, as him."

Nancy raised her chin bravely. "But you're not. You've failed. You were made, and now you're never going to get the information you came for. You've got nothing."

"Nancy, Nancy, Nancy..." Frank II shook his head patronizingly. "I may not have gotten the information I came for, _yet._ But—" Something buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled out the silver cell phone, looking delighted. "I knew he'd be keeping a close watch on our travel plans, but wow." he muttered, almost to himself. Then he shot Nancy a triumphant look. "Looks like your friend the Gray Man has already figured out what you haven't. I may not have the intel... but I've got a hostage."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: You guys have really stepped up to the plate with reviewing, and I can't thank you enough. Thank you to Shenice, Caranath, Stork Hardy, Mickiecuteknight, Really Cinderella, Jabba1, ILoveMom, Tigress2929, Anita Ruiz, bhar, and SC15. You guys deserve daily updates. :)

To all my Joettes out there: I hear you lol. Stay tuned for a short piece focusing on Vanessa and Joe's side of the story, coming soon!

* * *

Nancy lay on the bed, the handcuffs digging into her wrists, the chirping of the silver cell phone boring into her brain. It was sitting on the bedside table, just inches from her reach, and it had been ringing incessantly since Frank II had changed their travel plans two days ago.

Two days ago she thought she would be home by now, back in the States, safe with the real Frank and the Network's precious package. But she'd barely moved from this position in two days, spending hour after agonizing hour under the calm gaze of her lover-turned-captor.

He hadn't left her alone in two days. He hung the 'do not disturb' sign on the door to deter the maids from coming in. He ordered room service and intercepted it at the door before helping her sit up to eat. A few times a day he would unchain her from the bed and let her use the restroom—those two minutes the only privacy she got at all. Unsurprisingly, he had stripped the bathroom of anything she could possibly use to open the cuffs—barrettes, tweezers, all gone. At night, thankfully, he slept on the couch, probably figuring that she was more secure where she was, and that sleeping next to her, even cuffed, was a risk that wasn't worth it.

Not that he seemed to need much sleep. He was almost preternaturally alert, only lying down for a few hours at a time and waking at the smallest sound. She had no doubt now about how he'd found out about the Network phone—he'd clearly heard her sneak out to make the calls.

He didn't leave the room at all, instead typing away at his laptop and making the occasional incomprehensible phone call. She had no idea who he was talking to or what he was saying, since he always spoke in Russian, which was a shame since she suspected it was probably info the Network would kill to have. But there was nothing she could do about it; she didn't speak Russian and that was that.

And the silver cell phone just rang and rang.

It rang several times an hour, always flashing the same phone number, and when it wasn't ringing, it was periodically jingling to remind her that she had missed calls. Frank II never answered it, and she knew that he had turned on the volume and left it sitting by her bed just to torment her, and it was working. Every time the Gray Man tried to call her, she imagined Frank sitting by, listening to it ring with no answer, every second robbing him of a little more hope that she was still alive. She was being punished, she knew, for trying to go behind the double's back. Thank god he didn't know the secret of the jewelry box that still sat innocently and untouched under the dresser.

Yesterday, Frank II had informed her that she was going to make a phone call. She'd almost been excited; with the hours dragging on and no hope of escape, any change in the status quo—even if it was a ransom demand, or a threat—felt like a good thing.

But instead of handing her the silver cell phone, her captor had handed her the receiver for the land line and told her that she was going to call her father, to tell him about the change of plans. He'd dialed the number for her and sat on the bed with her, his proximity a tangible threat as she tried to keep her voice breezy and unconcerned while she talked. It had taken all her self-control not to try to slip Carson a coded message, some kind of signal to tell him she was in trouble. But she knew he would never pick up on it—not when Frank was right there, ready to reassure him. Besides, the only people who could help her at this point were the Network... and they already knew she was in trouble.

So she'd obediently relayed the Assassin's message—that she and Frank were extending their honeymoon—to her oblivious father, trying not to cry as he chuckled and reminded her that the honeymoon couldn't last forever. Then he'd told her he loved her and said goodbye before the money on her calling card could run out, unknowingly leaving her alone in the hands of a killer once again.

She'd refused to cry as Frank II took the receiver from her cuffed hands and placed it back in the cradle, even though she could feel him watching her for signs of weakness. She waited until he went to sleep—or as deep in sleep as he ever got—to let the few hot tears fall. Tears for her father, for Frank, for Joe and Vanessa, for home, for a time when she was in control of her life... for last week, when she'd felt like the happiest girl in the world, before she knew that she was living a lie.

The cell phone rang again, jolting her out of her self-pity and vaulting her straight into anger. Using the bedpost as leverage, she curved her body into a 'c,' swinging her legs up high enough to reach the phone on the nightstand. Her left foot made contact, sending the phone flying across the room and into the wall opposite. Knowing that it was a Network phone, she probably shouldn't have been surprised that, rather than smashing into pieces, it simply dropped to the floor and continued to ring.

Frank II looked up from his computer with an air of mild interest as the phone shot past him, before turning to her with a quizzical look. "Something wrong, pumpkin?"

Gritting her teeth and ignoring the cutesy nickname she knew he was purposely using to rile her, she took a deep breath. "I don't suppose you could answer that?" she returned in the same bright tone of voice.

He looked at her for a long moment, thinking. Then, to her surprise, he went over and picked up the phone. "All you had to do was ask."

Nancy sincerely doubted that, but a wave of dread broke over her as she watched him flip the phone open. The problem with having an adversary like Frank was that even though he was always two steps in front of you, that never stopped him from thinking on his feet. What was he going to do now?

"Frank Hardy here." the double spoke into the phone with a conspiratorial grin at Nancy. "...In a manner of speaking."

Nancy could just barely hear the sound of the Gray Man's voice on the other end. She wondered if Frank was with him, listening to the sound of his own voice coming over the line.

"Yes, she's here." Frank II said. He pushed the speakerphone button, allowing Nancy to hear the Gray Man's steady, unemotional voice.

"Nancy? Are you there?"

"I'm here." she answered quietly, her narrowed eyes still focused on Frank II. What was he planning?

"Are you hurt?"

Nancy shifted, feeling the handcuffs bite into her wrists. "No so much 'hurt' as 'captured.'" she admitted.

"All right, now you've talked to her." Frank II said. "You know I have her. I propose a trade, and I'm sure you can guess the terms."

"I can't imagine." the Gray Man said dryly, but unironically.

The thin string that seemed to tether the double's temper snapped. "The _package_, Gray. The package. I want that information!" he seethed.

"You don't already have it?" the Gray Man asked, sounding mildly surprised. Panic welled up in Nancy—Mr. Gray had obviously thought she would have surrendered the true package by now. If he tipped off the double that she'd had it the whole time... She could barely finish the thought.

"It's a fake and you know it, you son of a bitch." Frank II snarled, and Nancy nearly sighed aloud with relief. "Don't play dumb with me. I want the information I came here for. And if I don't get it... well, the Network's going to get some blood on their hands."

"You're suggesting that I exchange government secrets for Miss Drew's life, then?" the Gray Man asked calmly.

Nancy swallowed hard. She knew, from hearing Frank and Joe's stories, that she couldn't count on the Network's help in this. The Network tended to take a very big-picture view of hostage situations, and they would protect their secrets at all costs—even if the cost was her life.

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting." Frank II answered in a hard tone.

"I'm afraid," the Gray Man said firmly, "That we cannot do that."

"If you need me to sweeten the pot, I should remind you that Nancy isn't the only helpless American citizen on a honeymoon with an Assassin." Frank II said smugly. "I'd hate to see both Nancy and Vanessa Bender abandoned by their government... especially so soon after the tragic deaths of Frank and Joe Hardy."

"Well, the situation isn't exactly as bleak as all that." the Gray Man said coolly. "Frank and Joe Hardy both survived your attack, and are presently alive if not particularly well, and Miss Bender has already been extracted from her 'honeymoon,' as you call it, and is safe at the American Consulate in Aruba. Unfortunately her captor was killed as he resisted attempts to take him into custody."

Nancy's eyes widened as she watched Frank II receive this news. While she was relieved to hear that Vanessa was safe, and even that Joe's evil double was gone for good, she wished that the Gray Man wouldn't taunt her own captor so flagrantly. He'd already demonstrated his quick temper, and her life was in a precarious position as it was.

Frank II's face was stony with rage, but he never wavered in his negotiations. "So you're telling me that Nancy's life is worthless to you? If you don't give me the information I want, her blood will be on your hands."

"If the Network were to divulge the contents of that package to the Assassins, we would have much more blood on our hands than that of one woman." the Gray Man said. Though it was exactly what Nancy had expected him to say—and truthfully, she wouldn't have wanted him to exchange her life for secrets that could endanger countless innocent people—she still shivered at the finality in his tone. She was completely on her own.

"This isn't just any woman, it's Nancy Drew." Frank II reminded. He reached over and grabbed one of her hands, twisting it back until, despite herself, she cried out in pain. "I really think you should reconsider, Gray. The end's not going to be pleasant for her."

Regret tinged the Gray Man's voice when he spoke. "Even if I were so inclined to make the trade, I'm afraid I don't have that kind of power. My hands are tied. I'm sorry, Nancy, I truly am."

"And is Frank Hardy also this nonchalant about writing off his girlfriend's life?" Frank II spat, releasing her hand in frustration.

"He is not aware of this call, but I'm sure he would not be. Frank loves Nancy very much." Gray said quietly.

Nancy knew that he was trying to do what he could for her, but after explicitly stating that the Network would not be rescuing her, comforting words were not enough to quell the hopelessness rising in her. She had the sudden thought that this might be her last chance to get an apology to Frank for her behavior the last time they'd talked, and she spoke up quickly. "Mr. Gray, please tell Frank that-"

The double cut her off. "That the Network has until midnight, our time, to change their minds, or Nancy is dead." Then he hung up the phone, tossing it away in disgust.

Nancy's eyes shot to the clock on the bedside table. It was 8:24.

She had less than four hours before her time ran out.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you, Shenice, leyapearl, Caranath, ILoveMom, SC15, Stork Hardy, Really Cinderella, bhar, Jabba1, and Tigress2929. You know what for. ;)

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"So you knew the whole time that Frank was still alive?" the double asked.

"I knew." Nancy confirmed shortly. In the aftermath of the call to the Network, the one in which Frank II had placed a time limit on her life, it was strange to be making civil conversation with him.

"I guess that explains why you were so calm about me killing him... Honestly, I was really starting to wonder if you cared about him all that much." He was leaning against the wall now, studying her in that infuriating way of his. But for all of his confident body posture, she could tell that he was shaken.

"That ransom call didn't exactly go well." she commented, raising her eyebrows. "The Network's never going to give you what you want."

He grimaced. "It's their move." he said, "But I doubt that the Network's going to lose you if they can help it. The Gray Man has a bit of a weakness for the Hardys, you know. I would have liked to have Vanessa as extra leverage, but..."

It was unsettling to hear the terrorist talk this way. He seemed defeated, clinging to a plan that he was just realizing wasn't going to work. Nancy's eyes widened as she heard what he wasn't saying. "You're upset about Joe, aren't you? Your Joe, I mean. Dying in Aruba."

"What?" Frank II straightened up. "I barely knew him. Hardly the first Assassin to give his life for the cause. Why should that upset me?"

Though he was denying it, Nancy felt a small spark of hope that she had found the weakness she was looking for. If he ever lost Joe, the real Frank would be a wreck. It was time to see just how much Frank II was like the original. "You might know, logically, that he's not your brother, but... your memories are telling you otherwise, aren't they? He's been by your side for as long as you can remember. You've spent your whole life trying to protect him."

A muscle ticked in Frank II's jaw, but he didn't respond, instead changing the subject. "Well, Nancy, it looks like you've got a little over three hours to live. What would you like to do with them? Should I have some champagne sent up?"

"I mean, when's the last time you and Joe went without talking for this long?" Nancy pressed.

"We could even do a repeat of the wedding night." Frank II suggested nastily. "The real Frank never has to know."

Nancy shuddered, but didn't let her repulsion distract her from her emotional assault. "He's always been there for you when you needed him, and now he's gone, and you weren't there. That's not something you can just-" She was cut off when he grabbed her jaw tightly in his hand.

"Or, you could spend your last three hours lying in silence." he said tautly. Grabbing the roll of duct tape from his laptop bag, he ripped a piece off and stretched it over her lips. As he did, she noticed that his hands were shaking slightly.

As impossible as it seemed, the silence was even worse than the threats, taunts, and innuendos. They both sat sullenly as each tick of the clock brought them closer and closer to midnight. The silver cell phone didn't ring.

She wondered how he'd do it. Would he strangle her? Suffocate her? Shoot her? Worse than anything was the helplessness she felt. She was Nancy Drew. She didn't stumble into a situation only to lie there and wait for rescue or death. She put up a fight!

She looked at the clock. 10:38. Less than an hour and a half until the deadline. If she was going to do something, she'd better do it soon.

She had only one move to make. She straightened up a little in the bed, trying to attract his attention. "Mmmnk." she said, the tape muffling the sound of his name.

He looked over at her, one eyebrow raised.

She looked from him to the bathroom door and back, her eyes pleadingly wide.

He sighed and came over to her, fishing the handcuff key out of his pockets. It was a routine they'd perfected over the past three days: unlock one wrist, lock it to the other, release her from the bed. The range of movement in a pair of handcuffs was enough to give her a severe handicap if she tried to attack, but sufficient that she could use the restroom with only a little difficulty. Once her hands were free, she peeled the tape off her lips, tossing it to the ground.

Frank II looked very guarded, and with good reason, as she walked past him and into the bathroom. With so little time left on the clock, he was expecting her to make a move. In fact, he would be suspicious if she didn't. What she needed was two plans: a plan of escape, and a way to make him think she had no plan. A sort of double-bluff. And she had two minutes in which to put it together.

Outsmarting Frank Hardy was a tall order.

The bathroom was very bare, as Frank had gotten rid of anything she could potentially use as a weapon, so it was easy to look around and see how much—or, rather, how little—she had to work with. Her eyes lit up as they rested on the shower curtain, which was attached to the rod by a series of metal rings. Quickly, she stood on the lip of the tub and reached her cuffed hands up to the curtain rod. If she could get one of the rings loose, she could use it to jimmy open her cuffs.

She picked a ring somewhere in the middle of the curtain, where the curtain wouldn't droop and make the missing ring obvious. Easily, she unclipped it from the rod, the curtain, and the shower liner. Then she hooked it around the loop in the collar of the robe, where she'd be able to reach it with her hands cuffed to the bedpost, and stepped lightly down from the rim of the tub.

The second part of the plan was a little more problematic. Absently, she reached over and flushed the toilet, keeping up the charade as long as she could. She searched the counter for a useful weapon. The crystal faucets were permanently fixed in place. The toothbrush holder was screwed firmly into the wall.

On the other side of the sink, the marble soap dish was likewise affixed to the wall. She gave it a little tug and felt it give. Turning on the water to mask the sound, she pulled harder on the soap dish, feeling the screws come out of the wall thread by thread. When if finally came free, she stood for a moment, feeling its weight in her hand and mentally preparing for attack. It wasn't the perfect weapon, was barely an adequate one... but it was all she had.

She shut off the water, but didn't go out. After a few seconds, as she'd known he would, he knocked on the door. "Nancy? You done?"

She didn't answer him. She was too busy trying not to think about how much this was going to hurt. It wasn't too late to put the soap dish back, to leave the bathroom obediently and let him chain her back up like a good girl...

"Come out." he ordered.

Still, she didn't move.

He flung the door open and she sprang forward, soap dish wielded high in her cuffed hands. Before she could bring it down on his head, he reached up and caught the chain linking her hands, stopping their movement. Her momentum sent him staggering backward into the bedroom.

She kicked him behind the knee and he tripped, falling onto his back and bringing her down on top of him. He still had her by the handcuffs, so she opened her hand and let the soap dish fall and hit him on the forehead. One of the screws gouged out a long scratch above his eyebrow, and he swore angrily.

But even with the leverage she had on him, he was stronger—not to mention that he had full use of both arms. It was easy for him to flip them over, and he wasn't gentle about it, slamming her against the ground. The cuffs bit into her arms, lacerating her skin and twisting her wrists painfully. Her head banged into the bedpost, and she felt the rush of heat and pain to the area that almost certainly meant she was bleeding.

He aimed a knockout punch at her face, but she snapped her head to the side at the last moment and it glanced off her jaw. Still, the pain was unbelievable, and involuntary tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. If he'd managed to hit her straight on, she had no doubt that she'd be unconscious right now... or at the very least, spitting out teeth.

She had to end this before he actually killed her. "Okay!" she gasped out. She stopped struggling, holding her hands open in surrender. "Okay. You win."

Still keeping her pinned, he eased his weight off her, and she took a few ragged breaths, blinking the tears out of her eyes. "I had to try."

He hauled her up and cuffed her hands back to the bedpost before grinning, wiping away the drop of blood that had trickled from the cut on his forehead. "I know you did."

_Success. _She had him thinking that he'd foiled her last escape attempt. But the coolness of the metal ring against the back of her neck reminded her that her last chance wasn't over yet.

Now that she was sitting up, blood from her scalp wound began oozing into her face, and she ducked her head to daub at it with one pristine terrycloth sleeve. The vibrant red of blood on the white robe almost made her feel a little nauseous... or maybe it was the blood loss that was making her feel dizzy.

The silver cell phone rang, startling them both. Frank II had given the Network a deadline, but honestly, she doubted if either of them had expected them to call.

The double's eyes met Nancy's triumphantly, and he picked up the phone, flipping it open and putting it on speaker. "I hope, for Nancy's sake, that the Network has reconsidered, Gray."

Then came the voice on the other end of the phone, a voice that Nancy had resigned herself to never hearing again.

"It's not Gray." the voice said. "It's Frank Hardy."

Nancy's heart began pounding wildly. "Frank." she said, but it came out as an inaudible whisper.

Frank II growled at the phone in frustration. "You'd better not be calling just to say goodbye. Nancy and I are waiting for a very important call from your buddies at Network HQ. Are they ready to deal or not?"

"The Network and I had some differences of opinion when it came to handling this situation." Frank said. His voice was steady, but dangerous. Tears welled in Nancy's eyes. _What is he doing?_ "Take a look at the caller ID. I'm not calling from Network HQ."

Frank II glanced at the number on the screen, looking annoyed as he realized the other man was right. "And just where _are_ you calling from?"

"The hotel lobby." Frank answered coolly. "The Network might not be willing to deal for Nancy's life. But I am."


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you for your reviews, Shenice, SC15, Guest, MarvelAsh, maggierose17, Caranath, Really Cinderella, Tigress2929, bhar, the. vulture, ILoveMom, Jabba1, Stork Hardy, and Ealasaid Una. I knew you guys would like that chapter lol! I hope you like the next few just as much... I do! And thanks to supernaturalsam, who points it out for me when things I write don't make sense, and has ultimately helped me make this a better story.

On with the chapter: Enjoy!

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"_You_ are willing to deal for Nancy's life?" Frank II repeated skeptically. "What could you possibly have that I would want?"

"What do you think?" Frank retorted. "The package. The stupid package that caused all of this. I'll give it to you, in exchange for Nancy."

Nancy didn't know what to think. The mere fact that Frank was so close, here, in Egypt, was unbelievable enough. That he was willing to trade government secrets to save her life... it bordered on being beyond comprehensibility.

"The Network has flatly refused to make that very trade." Frank II said.

"I'm not here as an agent of the Network." Frank answered. "In fact, after this, I doubt I ever will be again. And that's if I manage to stay out of jail."

Nancy's lips parted in shock... surely he couldn't be saying what she thought he was saying.

"You're saying that you stole the package." Frank II surmised, his thoughts apparently running along the same lines as hers.

"I stole it." Frank confirmed. "From the minute you changed your flights back to America I knew you were going to try to use her as a hostage. I made a few calls from the Gray Man's phone without his knowledge and set up my own package drop. It wasn't hard; the contact had always been expecting me, despite the business with the doubles and the fake package. Then I hopped a plane to Egypt, picked it up, and came here. Do you want to deal, or not?"

"You're telling me that you're actually willing to commit treason? To save her?" Frank II said suspiciously. "Are you serious?"

When he spoke, Frank's voice was hard, dark, full of determination. "You're supposed to be me." he answered. "You tell me if I'm serious."

The sincerity in his tone instantly broke Nancy's heart.

Frank II's eyes flicked to her, sitting up in bed, pale with shock and blood loss. She stared back at him defiantly. "All right." he said finally. "Come on up."

After he hung up the phone, Frank II turned to Nancy. "Well, isn't this an interesting turn of events..." he chuckled. "It's true, you know. He really would do anything for you." As he spoke, he pulled a gun out of his laptop bag, calmly attaching a silencer to the muzzle.

Nancy didn't know where he'd gotten the gun, or why he hadn't used it earlier, but seeing him pull it out now chilled her blood. "What are you doing with that?" she whispered.

He shook his head, tucking the readied gun back into his bag. "It's a hotel, babe. People could be sleeping."

"Not with the silencer." Nancy bit out. "What are you going to do to him?"

"Nothing..." Frank II said. "As long as he gives me what I want. I just want the package, Nan, really. The gun's just a little insurance, that's all. In case he's trying to pull a fast one." He smiled at her, then jumped up out of his seat, as if suddenly remembering something. "Whoops. One more thing." Grabbing the roll of duct tape once more, he ripped off another piece.

"No," she protested. "Let me talk to-" Her words were cut off as he covered her mouth with the tape.

"Sorry sweetheart. Can't have you tipping him off about anything."

Nancy glared at him.

There was a knock on the door, and her heart jumped into her throat. She'd been lightheaded from the head wound before, but now she felt dizzy with panic. She was about to see Frank again, possibly for the last time. Who knew what plans the double had for him, for them both...

Frank II went to the door and opened it, pulling Frank inside quickly and locking it behind him. "Don't do anything stupid." he warned smugly. "And please excuse Nan's state of undress. We're on our honeymoon."

For a second, it seemed like Frank _would _do something stupid at the sight of Nancy, wearing nothing but a bloody bathrobe and handcuffs, her face and wrists cut and bruised, fresh blood matting her reddish locks. His face hardened, and his hands formed into fists as he looked at her. She pleaded to him with her eyes, as if that would somehow tell him everything he needed to know, and maybe it did, because he clenched his jaw and turned to his double. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Frank II raised an eyebrow. "Oh, relax, she gave nearly as good as she got." He held out his hand expectantly. "You have the package?"

"I'm not giving it to you until you let her go." Frank said. He looked at her again, and Nancy could see that he was not in great condition either. His face still bore the yellow traces of extensive bruising, and a red scar snaked out of his hairline, winding down towards his ear. He was also moving stiffly, as if every step was a painful effort. Realistically, Nancy knew that he could never win a fight in his condition... especially with himself as an adversary.

"Oh come on!" Frank II said. "You can't expect me to let her loose until I verify that you're bringing me the real thing. The Network already tried to fool me with that once."

"I told you." Frank said. "The Network didn't send me." But he reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive, which he placed in the double's hand.

"So you said." Frank II said with a laugh, turning on Frank's laptop. "You know, you're quite the pair, you and her. You sell stolen government secrets to save her, she sleeps with an enemy spy to save herself... Oops." he said, seeing the murderous expression on his counterpart's face. "That's probably a sore spot for you, huh? It must kill you to know that she's been with me. That she actually married me. We had a reception and everything. It's a shame you missed it."

"Mmmnk!" Nancy tried to speak up. She didn't know how much more of the double's taunting Frank could take. She didn't know how much more _she_ could take. Instead, she sought out Frank's eyes. In that moment, when their eyes met, she felt oddly comforted. _He knows I love him. He has to._

And if she didn't do something, she had the feeling that they were both about to be in a very bad situation. Her eyes swiveled between Frank and the laptop bag where the gun was concealed. If she could just get Frank to understand that he needed to get that bag, the odds against them would be much more even. He saw what she was looking at. His brow furrowed. He pointed at the bag. Nancy nodded.

"Wait a minute." the double scowled suddenly, just having plugged in the flash drive. "Another fake!" Enraged, he reached for the laptop bag, but Frank was already halfway there. He swept the bag off the table, and the gun went sliding across the floor. Both men looked at it, but neither made a move, tensed, waiting.

"I hardly think," Frank said coldly, "That you're in a position to be complaining about fakes."

"That drive isn't even encrypted." Frank II hissed.

"I doubt it's even password-protected." Frank replied. "I bought it off a kid in the lobby. It probably has his homework on it."

Nancy let her eyes fall shut, not sure whether she was more relieved that Frank hadn't really risked top-secret government intel, or more upset that he'd charged in here to confront an Assassin with nothing more than a high schooler's book report, effectively dooming them both.

Frank II let out a growl and lunged forward, ending the stalemate. Frank met him halfway, both men determined not to let the other get his hands on the gun. Nancy watched as Frank just barely managed to block a series of devastating punches from the double. He wasn't going to be able to hold his own for long. Frank II stooped to grab the gun, but Frank kicked it back towards the balcony doors, out of reach.

Suddenly, she remembered the shower curtain ring she'd stashed in her robe. With both Franks currently occupied, it wasn't hard to slip the ring out of the back of her collar without drawing attention to herself. With both of her hands cuffed to the bedpost, she had to bend at an awkward angle to see what she was doing. As she managed to slip one end of the metal ring into the lock of her cuffs, she smiled triumphantly—or would have, if not for the tape on her mouth.

She wiggled the ring around, looking for the release. It was hardly the first set of handcuffs she'd picked, but these few seconds seemed to be taking forever. She winced as Frank took a blow to the ribs and grunted in pain—there was no way his cracked ribs could have healed in only a few days. Frank II was moving the fight away from the bed, towards the gun, driving Frank back with a hail of punches and kicks. Frank was winded, injured, but she could see that he was considering his moves carefully to compensate for his lack of strength.

There was a click, and her wrist came free as the cuff swung open. She nearly sighed with relief as she rotated it. It felt so good to have full use of it after three days of being shackled. With her free hand, she got to work on the other set of cuffs.

Frank II charged at Frank and he ducked, using the other man's momentum to flip him over his shoulder. None of them expected the crash that sounded as Frank II flew through the balcony door, broken glass scattering everywhere.

All three of them froze for a moment, waiting for someone to have heard the noise and come running. After a minute, it was obvious that no one had.

Frank II had been momentarily dazed, but he shook it off, safety glass crunching under his feet as he hoisted himself off the ground, only to be felled again by a kick from Frank. Suddenly, the double turned the tables, wheeling around with a kick that took Frank out at the knees. Frank II crawled back through the glass, finally getting his hands on the gun and disappearing onto the balcony after Frank. Nancy worked frantically at her handcuffs, dreading the moment she would hear the shot...

Another click meant that she had finally unlocked the other cuff, and she ripped the tape from her lips and jumped up from the bed, pressing a hand to her forehead when she threatened to collapse right back down. Frank needed her, and she wasn't going to let him down again.

She followed them out onto the balcony, ignoring the tempered glass that, while not as sharp as regular glass, managed to embed itself in her feet. The gun was on the ground on the other side of the balcony, where it had obviously slid or been kicked in the scuffle. Frank was on his knees, caught in Frank II's painful-looking hold. The double had blood dripping from his mouth, and he spat on the ground contemptuously, laughing.

"No!" A guttural cry was torn from her, and she leaped forward, but it was too late. As she watched in abject horror, he gave a hard shove, sending Frank toppling over the railing of the eighth-story balcony.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you, reviewers. Shenice, Really Cinderella, Caranath, the. vulture, Tigress2929, SC15, ILoveMom, leyapearl, and Stock Hardy, I appreciate every single one of you.

And thanks to supernaturalsam, who helped me figure out what specifically was going to happen in this chapter...

And we finally get to the climax! Sorry I left you guys (and Frank) hanging last chapter. Read on and don't forget to review!

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"Frank!" Nancy shrieked, diving to her knees at the spot where Frank had fallen.

"Yeah." A pained grunt.

Her heart started to beat again as she realized that he'd managed to catch hold of the edge of the balcony. "Oh god..." she reached out a hand to help him climb up, only to feel herself being snatched back by Frank II, who, with wild eyes and blood dripping from his lips, was looking more homicidal than ever.

"Three days to get out of handcuffs, Nan? _Three days?_" he scooped her up around the waist, tossed her to the ground a few feet away as though she was no heavier than a rag doll, and grinned, exposing red-tinted teeth. "That's pretty disappointing."

"You're not... the only one... who's disappointed with how this vacation's been going." Nancy gritted out, trying to catch her breath. Frank's face, barely visible over the ledge, was white as a sheet. His precarious position was putting too much strain on his injured ribs, and Nancy prayed that he wouldn't pass out. Even a momentary loss of consciousness would mean him plummeting to his death.

Frank II stepped closer to Frank, the toes of his shoes just inches from Frank's desperately-clutching fingers. "I don't know how you survived our last encounter, but you won't be surviving this one." he said darkly, lifting his foot.

Nancy hoisted herself up and charged, no consideration, no plan of attack. Evidently, the double hadn't expected such an uncoordinated move, because he stumbled back a few steps as her weight barreled into him. Her bare foot was sticky with blood, and she planted it behind him, tripping him up. His head hit the marble railing with a thud, and he fell to the floor.

Behind her, Frank groaned, his grasp on the ledge sliding back a few inches. Nancy scrambled over to him, reaching her hand through the columns to grab his. His grip was slick with sweat, and it took both of her hands to hang on firmly enough to pull. She braced her legs against the balustrade, leaving bloody footprints on the marble as she tried to find the leverage to pull him up. With a burst of effort that felt almost superhuman, she managed to raise him several inches, high enough that he could loop his other arm over the top of the waist-high railing.

From this slightly-improved position, he took a series of ragged breaths. His face was creased with pain as he gasped out, "Thanks."

Her only answer was eyes shining with tears. "You came for me." she whispered. After everything—her infidelity with the double, their fight on the phone, his not wanting to marry her—it seemed like a miracle that he was actually here.

He was shaking his head like he couldn't believe she'd thought he would do anything else. "I love you." he said.

And then she was being ripped away from him again, as the double rose from his slumped position and tangled his hand into her hair, sending her sprawling to the ground once more. "_Enough!_" he growled. This time, the gun gleamed in his hand. He pointed it at Frank, who was still clinging defenselessly to the balustrade.

"Wait!" Nancy cried out. All that mattered, in that moment, was that that gun pointed at someone other than Frank. "I have the package." she confessed desperately. "I've had it the whole time."

Frank II looked her way, but the gun never wavered from Frank. "How many times do you think I'm going to fall for that trick?" he asked coldly. Blood continued to drip from his chin to the floor.

"It's not a trick." Nancy said, her eyes meeting his significantly. "Remember the jewelry box? The one I said I got for Bess in the marketplace?" She swallowed hard, hoping that he could see she was telling the absolute truth. "It has a false bottom."

She could tell by the expression on his face that he believed her. "When I looked in your purse it was gone." he murmured, her claim becoming a reality for him. The fire entered his eyes once more, and he turned the gun on her. "Where is it? _Where is it?_"

Now the gun was aimed at her, just like she'd wanted. "Under the dresser." she said, with a hysterical half-laugh. "It slid under by accident when I dropped my purse... It's been under there for days."

He was so stunned that he actually lowered the gun. "By accident." he repeated. "And all this time, you've-" He grimaced, raising the gun again. "You little..."

And there she was, still sprawled on the bloodstained, glass-strewn balcony, the gun pointed at her head. There was no way he could miss at this range. His finger tightened on the trigger...

And then loosened.

She looked up at him, confused. He was going to kill her. Why had he faltered?

She was startled, now, to see that the double's eyes were warm, regretful. The way he was looking at her was almost... protective. He had never looked more like the real Frank than he did in that single moment—

And then, just like that, it was gone. The hard eyes returned, the cold sneer, the finger, tightening on the trigger.

She closed her eyes.

But when the shot came, she didn't feel it. She opened her eyes. There was a hole in the tiled floor several inches to her left. Lying next to it was the gun.

And Frank II was lying on the ground, his face pressed into the broken glass. Frank was on top of him, pinning him down. "Nan?" he asked breathlessly. "You think you could get those handcuffs?"

Nancy nodded wordlessly, picking herself up and reentering the room by the person-sized hole in the balcony door. It took her a moment to remember that she didn't have the key to the handcuffs, and that she'd have to pick them to get them off of the bedpost. Finding the curtain ring lying on the floor, she went to work on the first set.

Then she shrieked as the door to the room burst open and half a dozen armed men in black suits spilled in.

"Network." One of them said, nodding at her cursorily as they passed her on their way out to the balcony. She thought it might even have been the man who'd given her the jewelry box in the marketplace... but it was hard to tell, seeing him in regular clothes.

She tossed the curtain ring away as the agents converged on the double, restraining him themselves and relieving Frank of his burden.

The last man to come through the door was dressed somewhat differently—in a gray suit, not black. She could tell immediately that this was their leader. He holstered his handgun and stepped towards her, and she stood from the bed to meet him halfway. "Mr. Gray?"

He nodded, extending his hand to shake hers. "Correct, Nancy. It's nice to finally meet you in person." She knew his voice from the phone.

Nancy did not return the compliment, nor did she shake his hand. Instead, she stooped down and reached under the dresser, coming up with the jewelry box. She dropped it into his outstretched hand wearily. "Here's your damn package."


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thank you to MarvelAsh, Tigress2929, Shenice, ILoveMom, SC15, Guest, Caranath, Stork Hardy, Ealasaid Una, Leann, and leyapearl for their reviews, and to supernaturalsam for discussing this all in _great_ detail with me as I wrote it.

I think there will be one more chapter after this... Stay tuned for the wrap-up, and don't forget to review!

* * *

Unlike the police, the Network was clearly used to doing their work without help from anyone. Over the next few minutes, ten or twelve different men and women came and went throughout the suite, processing the scene, collecting evidence, and cleaning up the mess that had been left—the blood, the glass, even the bullet hole in the floor. Nancy stood in the corner, out of the way, watching the suits perform their various tasks like a well-oiled machine. Nobody asked her for a statement, or to answer even a single question. Nobody offered her a blanket, a drink of water, or to call her an ambulance.

Frank II had been removed, in cuffs, and the tiny taste of justice would have made her smile, except that she was in shock. A week of emotional torture, three days of physical capture, the head wound, seeing Frank again, the fight on the balcony... It had all culminated here, in this, and she couldn't tell if she was numb with pain or with relief.

Frank was still on the balcony, talking to the Gray Man. She'd figured out by now that Frank had been lying when he said he was going against the Network, and that his arrival here had been orchestrated by himself and the Gray Man, regardless of what Network upper management might have had to say about the situation. The one thing she couldn't figure out was, if Frank had had Network support the whole time, where were they five minutes earlier? When Frank was dangling over an eighth story balcony and Nancy was having a gun pointed at her head?

She finally understood what Joe meant when he said that, considering they were _the good guys_, the Network wasn't very _good._

She felt a familiar hand on her shoulder and jerked away reflexively. Turning, she found herself face to face with Frank. He had a sick look in his eyes as he took a step back, hands spread non-threateningly. "Sorry." he murmured.

"No... it's okay." she said in a hollow voice. She knew the double was gone, had seen him get taken away... She was safe now; it was stupid to jump at Frank's touch.

"It's not okay." he disagreed. "Not at all." She could tell from the way he was looking at her that he wanted to reach for her, but didn't dare. "I can't believe none of these people tried to get you medical attention." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, looking around at the hustle and bustle of the Network agents. "You're hurt, Nan. We've got to get you to a hospital. Or..." he swallowed. "Or, I can get someone else to take you. I'm sure one of these women-"

"You _both_ need a hospital, and I'll be taking you. My car's downstairs in the lot." the Gray Man said, interjecting himself into their quiet moment with a businesslike confidence. When Frank opened his mouth to argue, Gray said, "No one's as familiar with your condition as I am, Frank. You promised me that if I helped you with this, you would let me deal with the aftermath. Which includes this." he turned to Nancy. "Can I have someone pack a change of clothes for you, Nancy?"

Nancy shook her head vaguely. "I can do it." Mr. Gray frowned, but didn't argue with her. Given a few minutes, she managed to change out of the despised robe, and to grab clean outfits for herself and Frank.

They sat in the back of the Gray Man's nondescript car, not touching, for the entire ride to the hospital.

* * *

She felt a little more human after she was treated and cleaned up—her head, wrists, and feet bandaged, the blood washed out of her hair. They told her that the head wound warranted an overnight stay for observation, and she didn't argue. Besides, if she left the hospital, where would she go? It wasn't like she had any desire to return to the hotel.

After she was showered and changed into a fresh hospital gown, one of the nurses brought her the tray she'd left her jewelry in before the shower. She watched as Nancy carefully plucked out her engagement ring and slid it onto her finger. Next she picked up the wedding ring, holding it in her palm without putting it on.

"There's a man outside waiting to see you." the nurse told her. "Your husband?"

"My fiance." _Still... hopefully..._ Nancy said, tucking the wedding ring into her purse. "I'm not married. Can you tell him he can come in?"

The nurse nodded, but looked uncomfortable. "Are you sure you want to see him? I can tell him that you're sleeping."

Nancy knew that the nurses thought Frank had done this to her, but she didn't care. In a manner of speaking they were right, although in all the important ways they were wrong. Besides, when they saw his injuries they'd probably realize that Nancy had gotten off easy...

"I do want to see him." she said. "Please." She had a lot of things to say to him, a lot of apologies to make that couldn't wait until morning. She would never be able to sleep until she knew where they stood.

She sat up on the bed, for some reason not wanting him to see her lying helplessly in bed again tonight. She swung her bandaged feet, covered by thick pink socks to pad her footsteps, back and forth nervously over the tile floor.

The door opened, and Frank stood there, looking tentative and apologetic. "Hey Nan." he said quietly.

"Hey Frank." she answered, managing a smile. "Can you... come in for a little?"

"For as long as you want." he said, closing the door behind him.

He took a few steps toward her, and, though he tried to hide it, she could see from his stilted movements that he was still in great pain. "Didn't they give you anything for your ribs?" she asked, gesturing for him to sit down.

He lowered himself gingerly into the chair beside her bed. "Aspirin." he said. "I didn't want to take anything stronger. You know how it is with cracked ribs. Not a whole lot you can do about them." His eyes flicked up to the white gauze fixed to the side of her head. "How's the head?"

Nancy rolled her eyes. "It's fine. There was a lot of blood, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it looked. But they wanted to keep me, and... I didn't feel like arguing." She paused, taking a deep breath. "And, speaking of arguing, Frank... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, for everything. For fighting with you on the phone, and for not talking to you on the way to the hospital-"

"You were in shock, Nan." Frank interrupted. "And as for the fight, that was my fault. You were in a nightmare situation and I was saying all the wrong things. Please don't blame yourself. Please."

Letting go of blame wasn't as easy as all that, but she nodded, pushing her hair behind her ear and pressing on. "So... are you mad at me? For what I did with the double?" She couldn't look at him now, keeping her eyes trained on her pink-clad feet.

"I'm mad at everyone_ but_ you, Nan-" his voice cracked, causing her to look up. "Everyone who was supposed to be in control of this situation failed you. The Network, the Gray Man, me..." he swallowed bitterly. "And as hard as that guy was trying to kill me tonight, I was trying harder to kill him. If it weren't for these damn ribs I would have done it." He looked at her, his brown eyes dark, serious. "I hate what you had to go through, Nan, but I can't be mad about it because I'm just happy you're alive."

She held out one of her hands to him, and after a moment, he took it. "I can't believe you thought I would stop loving you because of this. I can't believe you thought I wouldn't come."

"I'm sorry." she whispered again. "The whole situation kind of... messed with my head."

Frank reached out with his other hand and brushed his thumb lightly over her bandaged temple. "I can see that." he said with a wry smile, which faded as he looked at her. "I would understand, though, if you were mad at me." he said. "I'm the one who suggested we do this mission in the first place. I got you into this."

She shook her head. "Like I need your help getting into trouble, Hardy." she smiled softly. It had never occurred to her to blame Frank for what had happened. They'd made the decision to take the mission together, and she knew that he'd given her all the information he'd thought was important—which didn't include the Lazarus clinic. Besides, he'd risked a lot to come rescue her, especially in his battered condition. Neither of them had escaped without scars. "I'm not mad, Frank. I was just upset. And I was afraid you didn't want me anymore, after... after what _he _did to me."

He looked down at the hand he held in his own, running his thumb over the stone on her engagement ring. "I want you, Nan. But more than that, I want you to be happy, and I want you to feel safe."

"This is about earlier." Nancy surmised. "When I pulled away from you."

"He hurt you. He beat you, and he took advantage of you. It's... understandable that you would be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you." But he was deep into self-loathing now.

"And I meant it when I said I would give you space. As much as you need-"

"Frank?" she interrupted, squeezing his fingers gently.

He looked up at her, concern in his warm brown eyes. "Yes?"

"About that space you're giving me? I need a little less, okay?" She smiled a little, watching him realize what she meant.

He brought her hand to his lips for a quick kiss, then shifted over from the chair to sit next to her on the bed. His arm slipped tentatively around her shoulders. "Even less?" he asked softly.

"Mmhmm." Slowly, gently, she moved closer to him, as though she were easing herself into a hot tub rather than an embrace. She pressed her face into his shoulder, sighing as she felt his other arm wrap around her. "I missed you so much."

"Me too, Nan. Me too." his voice was husky, and she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. For the first time, it was starting to feel like everything would be all right.

"Stay with me?"

He nodded. "As long as you-"

"I want." Nancy said, cutting him off before he could finish. Together they shifted around until they were lying together on the small hospital bed. She was mindful of his ribs as she helped him lie back, resting her head on his shoulder and clasping his hand in hers. "Hey," she said. "I meant to tell you earlier: thanks for saving my life."

"I have no idea how I managed to get up on the balcony and get there in time to tackle him." Frank confessed into her hair. "I really thought I was going to lose you. I would have, if he'd been a second faster on the trigger."

"The joke's on the Assassins." Nancy said. She'd replayed that moment over and over in her head, the moment just before Frank II had tried to shoot her, that one second where he'd faltered, looked at her with... _love? _She lifted her head, peering into Frank's eyes. "The first time he tried to shoot me, he couldn't. They did their job too well. They put too much of you into him."

"He didn't want to hurt you..." Frank murmured, sounding... almost grateful. After all, it had been that momentary lapse that had allowed him to subdue the double and save Nancy.

She smiled. "I guess your love saved me twice." she said simply. Then she let him kiss her.

The kiss was gentle, slow, warm, undemanding. When it ended, he tugged her closer, and she snuggled against him, finally letting herself relax and feel safe after the stress and terror of the past few days. She shut her eyes, and smiled when she heard his deep voice next to her ear.

"I meant to ask you," he said. "What did _you _think of our first kiss?"

She laughed, and it felt a little strange, but good. "At the time, I was cold." she said. "But looking back on it now? I can see that it was perfect."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers from last chapter: Caranath, Shenice, TrixieNancy124, Tigress2929, Really Cinderella, SC15, ILoveMom, leyapearl, and Stork Hardy. And as always, thanks to supernaturalsam for her suggestions and constant reassurance!

So... It's not over. I thought this would be the last chapter, but it's not, and the next chapter won't be either. (If anyone happened to get funneled to this chapter by the end of _Vanessa Bender and the Aruba Affair_, be assured that Joe and Vanessa will feature prominently in all of the remaining chapters!) The characters just had so much to say to each other that I could not get them to shut up (hence, this is the longest chapter of the whole story), so blame them for the delay in posting!

Also, I borrowed a bit of dialogue from _Secrets of the Nile._

Enjoy, my lovely readers!

* * *

Normally, upon landing at the airport, Nancy would be eager to get off and stretch her legs, especially after a twelve-hour flight. But today, she found herself taking her time, slowly gathering her belongings and watching the other passengers pass by her.

In the seat beside her, Frank was looking at her with concern. "You okay, Nan? You're stalling."

She sighed, shouldering her carry-on and stepping into the aisle. "I'm nervous, Frank. I don't know why they had to come and pick us up at the airport. They must hate us. And they have every right to." She fell silent, wishing she hadn't said anything. If there was anyone who felt more responsible for what had happened to Joe and Vanessa than she did, it was Frank. He even blamed himself for the way his double had treated _her_. Nancy was worried that someday soon he'd crack under the strain of all the guilt.

"They're picking us up because they offered to." Frank said gently. "They might be angry about what we did, but they know we never meant for this to happen. It's just... going to take some time to heal, that's all."

"And it's not going to heal unless we face them." Nancy finished ruefully. Logically, she knew this was true. Emotionally... she didn't feel ready. She'd heard the story of the horrors Vanessa had gone through, thinking she had witnessed Joe's murder, without any explanation. She knew that Joe had been through hell over the past few days, first nearly losing Frank and then learning that Vanessa was on their honeymoon with a killer, and helpless to do anything about either. How could she even begin to apologize for putting them both through that kind of torment, regardless of how unintentionally she had caused it?

She lifted hers and Frank's suitcases off of the luggage carousel, and popped up the handle so that Frank could wheel one. He wouldn't complain about his ribs—hadn't even mentioned them during the long flight—but she knew they were paining him. Lifting anything wasn't an option for him at this point.

"Thanks." he said. He transferred the handle to his other hand and offered his free hand to her.

That was something he did now, never touching her without informing her first, always letting her initiate physical contact. There was something so irritating about it—he was treating her like she was fragile—and simultaneously, it made her sad that he felt he could no longer just reach for her spontaneously, the way he used to. But she couldn't tell him to stop... because no matter how well she knew that Frank would never hurt her, it was kind of... a _relief_ to know that he wasn't going to do anything without her permission.

She placed her hand in his, and together they walked into the arrivals area.

Joe spotted them first, standing from his hunched-over position in his plastic chair. Vanessa was right beside him, her fingers clasped tightly in his.

For a minute, Nancy felt like they were in some kind of standoff. Other travelers bustled around them obliviously while both couples stood facing each other in silence, no one saying a word.

It was Vanessa who finally crossed the gap, breaking from Joe and stepping forward to greet Frank with a brief hug and a peck on the cheek. Then she turned to Nancy.

Caught in the taller girl's gray gaze, all Nancy could do was blurt, "I'm so sorry, Vanessa. I'm so—" Her voice stuck in her throat as Vanessa pulled her into a firm embrace. Gently setting down her suitcase, Nancy brought up her arms to return the hug.

There was a sort of solidarity in the embrace, and Nancy suddenly realized that she and Vanessa had one very important thing in common: no other woman in the world had been through what they had, could truly sympathize with their profound disgust over the farce of a wedding, guilt over their intimacy with the doubles... She hadn't realized until now just how desperately she needed someone else to understand what she was feeling. It seemed like Vanessa needed that too.

Joe greeted Frank with a handshake—presumably in deference to his cracked ribs—but there was a definite coolness in the air along with the sense of palpable relief.

Over Vanessa's shoulder, Nancy's eyes met Joe's. He smiled tightly. "Glad you're safe." he said. "You had us worried over here."

It was a generic comment, and Nancy was sure there were plenty of other things that he wanted to be saying, but wasn't. She had the feeling they'd come out over the next few days, and the thought filled her with trepidation. It probably wouldn't be pretty.

Vanessa released her, leaning down to pick up Nancy's suitcase despite her protests. "He really did a number on you..." she said softly. There was concern in her expression as she looked at Nancy's face, and Nancy realized that after so much time on the plane, her makeup was probably doing a poor job of hiding the bruising she had sustained during her fight with Frank II.

She smiled wanly as their small group headed toward the parking lot. "It doesn't hurt much anymore." she said, brushing it off for Frank's benefit.

"Still..." Vanessa said. "Thank goodness Frank managed to get to you when he did." At Nancy's surprised look, she explained, "Mr. Gray told us the whole story."

"It was nice to get the whole story from _someone_." Joe spoke up bitterly. "And the Gray Man of all people. Imagine, Frank: the _Network_, keeping _me_ in the loop."

"Joe," Frank tried to speak up. "I-"

But Joe just ducked his head and began walking faster, clearly not in the mood for explanations or apologies.

Frank looked disheartened, but didn't try to pursue the subject.

"Just give him some time, Frank." Vanessa said quietly. "He's having a hard time dealing with what happened. But I don't think he slept at all between when you left for Egypt and when we heard you and Nancy were both safe."

Frank managed a smile. "Thanks, Vanessa."

Nancy was amazed by how Vanessa managed to remain so calm and empathetic. She'd been violated and traumatized just as badly as Frank, Nancy, and Joe, and yet she was handling it more gracefully than any of them. It was a part of Vanessa's personality that she had always admired. Like Frank and Joe, Nancy's specialty tended towards kicking ass and taking names. But once the damage was done, it was Vanessa who seemed to have an innate talent for picking up the pieces.

She took a mental vow that this time, Vanessa wouldn't be picking up those pieces on her own.

* * *

"_You want to get a little air?" _

_Nancy's heart began beating double time at the simple question. She and Frank hadn't been alone together since the tender moment they'd shared earlier on the taxi ride to the Victoria Hotel, when she'd held his sliced-up hand in her own and he'd looked her in the eyes and told her that the injury was a small price to pay for getting them—her—to safety... because he didn't know what he would have done if she'd been hurt. _

_It had taken their combined courage, preparedness, and ingenuity to rescue themselves from their latest predicament, but Nancy had known, in that moment, that Frank was far braver than she. He was brave enough to finally approach the topic they'd both been avoiding for far too long: the mutual attraction between them that was only growing stronger all the time. Then he'd leaned in, and Nancy had found herself doing the same. If the cab hadn't stopped in front of the hotel just then, he would have kissed her, she was sure. And if he hadn't, _she_ would have kissed _him_._

_She realized he was still waiting for an answer. "That would be great." she said casually, but it felt anything but casual. By saying yes, she was agreeing to being alone with him... admitting that she _wanted_ to be alone with him. A faint blush rose to her cheeks as she followed him onto the balcony._

"_Cold?" Frank asked, seeing her shiver. He put his arm around her, and she leaned into him. It was strange to feel him touch her like this, confidently and casually, as though cuddling on starlit balconies was something they did every day. But she couldn't deny that she was enjoying the feel of his arms around her, of her body pressed against his broad chest._

"_A little." Nancy answered. She was trying not to think about reality, about how much she was going to miss this—miss _him—_now that the case was over. "You know, I'm really glad we caught Krieger and Mahfouz, and found Darius and Leila too, but I wish..." She trailed off, realizing that another step forward would definitely put them over that line of friendship they'd drawn so carefully in the sand._

"_What?" He nudged her gently with his body, and she felt her defenses crumble._

"_I wish we didn't have to leave this place." she said. She couldn't explain out loud why she didn't want to leave Egypt, couldn't admit to this crazy fantasy she'd been constructing where they truly _were_ together, couldn't tell him that every second she spent with him was making her fall for him just a little harder._

_But he seemed to know anyway._

_When he turned her around to face him, gazing into her eyes in the semi-darkness, she could see her own longing mirrored in his expression. She was trembling with desire now, the cold far behind her, as he drew her in and kissed her._

_It was everything she'd wanted, everything she'd imagined it would be, on those few occasions when she'd allowed her mind to consider such things. The rest of the world melted away, until there was only the feel of his strong hands on her shoulders, his warm lips on hers._

_Then his teeth nipped her lower lip, causing her to moan in surprise. His hands strayed from her shoulders, sliding intimately over her body, pulling her tight against him. His fingers crept under the hem of her shirt, and their heat on her skin shocked her out of the moment. _

_This wasn't right; this wasn't how things were supposed to go. _

_Instinctively, she pulled away from him, taking a few steps back, but he followed, keeping his mouth locked to hers. Her back encountered the cool marble of the balustrade, and she found herself pressed against it, caught between the railing and his body. Feeling suddenly trapped, she turned her head, breaking the kiss. "Frank!"_

"_Mmm?" He'd moved on to her neck, licking and sucking as she tried to squirm away._

"_Frank, stop." she gasped breathlessly. "We can't do this. Ned—Callie—!" She swallowed hard, unable to believe how aggressively he was behaving. She had never seen him act this way before. It was too much, much too soon, and it needed to stop. "We're not really married! We have to stop pretending!"_

"_Pretending?" He lifted his head, and she realized with a cold splash of horror that this was not Frank. His eyes were filled with fanatical fire. Blood dripped from the cut in his forehead where she'd hit him with the soap dish. "Who's pretending?" he taunted._

_She stiffened in his arms, panicking, pushing against him, trying to get him to release her. But he only laughed, easily pinning her wrists with one hand. With the other, he reached for the button on her jeans. She gasped, jerking away from him in the only direction she could: backwards._

_A startled shriek escaped her as she realized just how perilously close she was to tipping over the railing. It was only Frank II's firm grip on her wrists that kept her on balance. She looked down. The ground was far, far below._

"_Please..." she whispered._

"_I wasn't pretending." he whispered back. "Were you?"_

Nancy jerked awake in bed, breathing heavily, a sheen of cold sweat covering her skin. Beside her, Frank stirred, and she froze, lying silently until she was sure he wouldn't wake.

She hated these dreams she'd been having since her rescue, these nightmares that were waiting for her every time she closed her eyes. It wasn't just the danger component, wasn't just that she woke up somehow feeling both guilty _and_ betrayed. She hated how they took her good memories—things she wanted to remember—and warped them into something dark and sinister. She hated that she couldn't tell Frank about them. Knowing him, he'd only blame himself for this too.

Just as she'd done last night and the night before, she slipped noiselessly out of the bed, taking her pillow with her, and crept into the living room, closing the bedroom door behind her. She pulled the afghan off the back of the loveseat and draped it around herself, tucking it under the scabbed-over soles of her bare feet as she lay down and stared blankly at the ceiling.

* * *

"Thanks again for coming over." Vanessa said, handing Nancy a glass of wine and curling up on the opposite end of the couch with her own glass. "It's kind of pathetic, but these days I get a little nervous when Joe's not around."

"It's not pathetic." Nancy reassured her. No matter how lightly Vanessa tried to play it off, seeing "Joe" killed right in front of her had left a scar that would take time to fade. "So where is he tonight?"

"Not sure. Out. The gym, probably." Vanessa said, swirling the wine in her glass. "I think he wants some time to himself sometimes, without having to worry about being strong for me."

Nancy pursed her lips sympathetically. "If he knew how you felt about him leaving, I'm sure he'd stay."

"Oh, he would." Vanessa said with a half-smile. "But I don't want to do that to him. I can't blame him for needing alone time. He's been... he's been really good about the honeymoon thing... for my sake, I mean. I really wish I could get him to talk to Frank, though. I hate to see them not talking; I know it's hard on them both."

"It is." Nancy agreed. Truthfully, Frank was a mess. To an outsider, he would seem as calm and collected as usual, but as someone close to him, who knew how Frank tried to compartmentalize his emotions, to bottle things up, Nancy could sense his inner turmoil. She also knew that he'd tried to reach out to Joe in the aftermath of the Egypt trip, but that Joe wasn't willing to talk yet, and Frank wasn't willing to push him. "I hate seeing them like this too." _And the worst part is feeling like it's my fault._

"Don't go guilt-tripping yourself again." Vanessa warned. Nancy looked up at her, startled that the other woman had managed to read her mind. "Don't look so surprised, Nancy. It's written all over your face." She set down her glass. "Look, you and Frank knew about the mission and you were still blind-sided by the doubles. Even if you'd warned us about your mission, it wouldn't have changed anything."

"The fact that we took it in the first place-" Nancy protested.

"Not a big deal." Vanessa cut her off. "The Network does favors for the guys all the time, and vice versa. And it's not like any of us are unaware that we're always in danger. We're trouble magnets, all four of us." She smiled wryly. "Well, maybe three of us moreso than the other."

Nancy let out a half-laugh. "Usually Joe attracts enough trouble for the both of you." she reminded, before sobering up. "It's just that this time, it was Frank and me."

"It's not like Joe and I were the only ones who got hurt." Vanessa said softly. "Frank almost died twice. And you..." she shook her head. "Look at you. It's obvious you're not sleeping."

Nancy ruefully raised her fingers to the dark circles under her eyes. "You're pretty quick to recognize the symptoms of nightmares..." she said. "I'm guessing you have them too."

Vanessa closed her eyes briefly, and Nancy could tell she was witnessing some unseen horror behind her eyelids. "About losing Joe, mostly." she confessed. "I know it doesn't make sense. But seeing him get shot down... it was the worst part for me. It was the worst moment of my entire life. I just... I can't reconcile the man I spent that week with with anyone other than Joe. And I know it kills Joe. And I know the man who died was a fake, a terrorist, but... he didn't seem that way to me."

Nancy nodded. If Frank II hadn't discovered the Network cell phone and revealed his true colors, she probably would have had the same problem that Vanessa had.

Vanessa sighed. "I don't know if Joe understands. I mean... he told me he doesn't blame me for not realizing that the double was a fake. He... he said that when he and Frank first found the Lazarus Clinic, they had made a double of... of Iola Morton."

Nancy set down her glass and leaned forward, covering Vanessa's hand with her own. If there was one single event in Joe's life that had shaped him into the man he was, it was the terrorist bombing that had killed his first love, Iola Morton. Vanessa had gotten through to Joe in a way no other girl had been able to since Iola, but Iola had always remained a painful—almost sacred—topic in the Hardy family.

"He said that the Iola double was a perfect copy in every way." Vanessa continued slowly. "That she had all of the memories, all of the feelings of the original. And even though he knew in his mind that she was dead, and he was aware of what the Lazarus Clinic was able to do, he _still_ thought she was the real thing. He said he couldn't blame me for not suspecting, that even if I had known about Lazarus, the copy would surely have been good enough to fool me. He said that Iola's double, despite having been programmed to kill him and Frank, couldn't carry out her orders due to her love for Joe, she was so identical to the original..." she trailed off and looked at Nancy uncertainly. "I just can't feel like the man I married _wasn't_ Joe."

Nancy scooted over and enfolded Vanessa in her arms; Vanessa had comforted her at the airport, and now it was Nancy's turn. She couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was for the best that Vanessa couldn't think of Joe II as an Assassin, couldn't feel that he had conned and violated her. Was this some kind of coping mechanism? She hoped, for Vanessa's sake and Joe's, that it wasn't the kind of denial that would backfire on them in the future.

"But then, I feel like that makes me disloyal to Joe." Vanessa said miserably. "Not that I couldn't identify the fake. Not that. But the fact that the worst part for me wasn't being tricked and used by the evil double, it was watching him die."

"It doesn't make you disloyal." Nancy promised. "Everyone knows Joe's the only one you love. That's not disloyalty." Her voice dropped to a much quieter pitch as she confessed something she barely liked to _think_, let alone say aloud. "I slept with Frank's double, even _knowing_ that he wasn't Frank." she murmured guiltily. "_That's_ disloyalty."

Vanessa pulled out of the embrace, her eyes wide. "Oh, Nancy..."

"I don't know what I was thinking." Nancy whispered. "I can't even rationalize it to myself anymore. I was just... scared. And I was trying to keep him distracted, and when he started kissing me I just... couldn't think of a way to stop it from happening without blowing my cover. I just let it happen."

The tables had turned again, and now it was Vanessa squeezing _her_ hand. "You think Frank blames you for that?" she asked gently.

"I think he blames himself. He blames himself for all of this." Nancy said softly. "He told me that I should do whatever I needed to do to keep myself alive... I just never thought I'd have to do _that_. It doesn't matter if he blames me. I blame myself."

Vanessa shook her head. "Try not to be so hard on yourself, Nancy. Not a lot of women could have gone through what you did and stayed sane."

The truth was, sometimes Nancy didn't feel like she _had_ stayed entirely sane.

"Frank's just glad you're alive, Nancy. Trust me on this. He would have moved heaven and earth to save you; you know how tough it was for him to make that trip, with his head the way it was. And the ribs... god. He wouldn't want you to dwell on this."

Despite herself, Nancy laughed a little. "I can't stop dwelling. I've been dwelling on everything, since it happened. I never stop."

Vanessa snorted. "I know what you mean."

There was silence between them then, but there was also an air of understanding, of companionship, and as Vanessa reached for the remote and turned on the TV, flipping to some trashy reality show that neither of them really watched, Nancy thought that they both felt a little better.

An hour and another glass of wine later, both girls were startled by the sound of Joe's key in the lock. The door opened a few inches before being stopped by the chain lock Vanessa had closed behind Nancy when she came in. Vanessa leaped off of her seat and walked over to the door, calling, "What's the password?"

"Romancing the Stone." Joe answered from the other side of the door.

Vanessa closed the door and slid open the chain lock, winking at Nancy. "His secret favorite chick flick." she explained, and Nancy grinned.

The door opened and Joe entered, gym bag slung over his shoulder, his hair still wet from the shower. "Hey babe." He dropped a kiss of greeting on Vanessa's temple before his eyes fixed on Nancy. "Hi, Nancy."

There was nothing cold or hostile in his expression, but Nancy felt as if the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped several degrees. "Hey Joe... I was just about to get going."

Vanessa frowned. "You don't have to leave, Nancy."

"No, I really should get home." Nancy said. She stood up, collecting the two wine glasses off the table and depositing them in the sink.

Joe dropped the bag he was carrying in the corner, his eyes drawn to the glasses in the sink. "You girls were drinking? How are you getting home, Nance?"

Nancy wasn't sure whether to feel offended by the comment or touched by the concern. "Only two glasses. And I'm walking, so don't worry."

"Hang on." Joe sighed, digging his hand into his pocket and fishing out his keys. "I'll drive you."

"It's only a few blocks." Nancy protested. "Really, I'll be fine. But thanks."

The look he gave her said he wasn't going to budge on this. "It's dark out. Come on."

Under normal circumstances, the idea that mere darkness would hinder Nancy's walking the less-than-a-mile between Joe's apartment and Frank's would have been laughable. But they were all on edge now, and the last thing Nancy wanted to do was start another fight with Joe. "Alright." she acquiesced. "Thank you." She said goodbye to Vanessa with a brief hug and a thank you, and followed Joe down to his car.

It took two minutes to drive to Frank and Nancy's building, which was not even close to the amount of time Nancy needed to prepare herself for what she needed to say. When he pulled up in front of the building, she thanked him again... but she didn't open the door, instead taking a deep breath and turning to him.

His features were shadowed by the darkness in the car, and honestly, that made things a little easier. "Joe..." she said softly, determinedly. "I know you don't want any more apologies from me. But you have to know that I truly am sorry about everything that happened with the Network. You know that if I'd had even the slightest idea that something like this would happen to you, and to Vanessa, and Frank, I would have done anything in my power to stop it."

She saw him open his mouth to reply, but hurried on without giving him a chance. "And I know I'm probably the last person in the world who should be asking you, but... I need a favor." She swallowed hard before continuing. "Please don't blame Frank for this. He already blames himself enough for everything, believe me. You can hate me if you want. I'll understand. The whole Network mission thing was mostly my idea in the first place. But please, just say you'll talk to Frank. Please."

"You done?" Joe asked after a few seconds.

Nancy nodded mutely.

Joe ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that was oddly reminiscent of Frank. "I don't hate you, Nan." he said quietly. "I don't even blame you and Frank for what happened to Vanessa. Not really. As screwed up as it is... this is just the kind of nightmare that comes with the territory of being _us_."

As grateful as she was to hear that Joe had forgiven her, she knew that there was still something wrong. "Then why won't you talk to Frank?" she asked in a near-whisper.

He drummed one hand on the steering wheel, looking straight ahead at the street, and that was when Nancy knew he wasn't going to answer her question. She opened the door and got out of the car, but before she closed it again she said. "Just _think _about talking to him, Joe. Please. He's your brother."

"You think I don't know that?" Joe snapped, and the anger in his voice caused Nancy to step back in alarm.

She closed the car door and _just_ managed to walk calmly up the walkway to her apartment, instead of sprinting like she wanted to. Tears stung her eyes as she fitted her key into the lock. She knew that just _asking _Joe to talk to Frank had been a long shot, but she hadn't really prepared herself for the sudden burst of animosity from someone she was used to thinking of as one of her closest friends. It didn't help that her nerves were still completely shot from her ordeal in Egypt, combined with the lack of sleep she'd been getting in the few days since they'd returned to Bayport. She tried to compose herself before she entered the apartment, not wanting to upset Frank.

He was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop open in front of him, though it was plainly obvious that he was really just staring into space. Still, he smiled at her when she came in. "Hey Nan."

"Hey." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head as she passed behind him on her way to the bedroom. She wasn't confident that she'd be able to hold a calm conversation right now. In truth, all she wanted was to crawl into bed and pray for dreamless sleep.

"Are you okay?" Frank asked, concerned, as usual.

"Fine." Nancy said. "Just exhausted. I'm going to hit the sack." She went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt before climbing into her side of the bed and turning off the lights. Then, she stared at the ceiling, not wanting to sleep, although it was true she was exhausted. She briefly wished that Frank had been asleep when she'd gotten home so that she could have gone straight to the couch. Somehow, it seemed easier to sleep there than in bed.

She'd lain there maybe twenty minutes before she heard a knock on the front door. Her body tensed as she heard Frank get up from the table to answer it; it wasn't very late, barely ten-thirty, but she still needed to know who had come knocking at this hour. Silently, she slipped out of bed and moved to the bedroom door, pressing her back to the wall as she listened through the door.

Frank's voice was filled with surprise as he realized who was at the front door. "Joe?"


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers from last chapter: bhar, Randompersonality, Caranath, Ealasaid Una, Really Cinderella, Tigress2929, SC15, and Stork Hardy.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Joe..." Through the bedroom door, Nancy could hear Frank falter for a moment before he spoke again. "What...? I mean... is something wrong?"

Then Joe's voice: "I don't know... I probably owe Nan an apology."

"I think she's asleep." Frank told him.

"I know." Joe said, a hint of sheepishness in his tone. "I waited for the bedroom lights to go off."

Nancy heard the front door close, presumably as Frank stepped back and let Joe inside.

"Do I want to know how long you've been surveilling our apartment?" Frank asked wryly.

Joe chuckled mirthlessly. "Since I dropped Nancy off and we... had words."

"Joe." Frank's tone was quiet and serious, and Nancy had to strain to hear. "What did you say to her?"

"She apologized to me, and asked me for a favor." Joe said. "And I sort of snapped at her."

"Dammit, Joe," Frank sighed. "She's fragile right now. Can't you cut her a break? You and Vanessa aren't the only ones who went through hell."

"I know."

"Besides, if you're going to be pissed at someone, be pissed at me." Frank said. "The Network mission was my responsibility. Please don't take this out on her."

This time, Joe's chuckle had some humor to it. "That's exactly what she said to me about you." he said. "That was the favor."

"She said that to you?"

"Not word-for-word, but... yeah." Joe said. He cleared his throat. "Look, the whole thing with the doubles wasn't your fault, and honestly, even if I'd known about the mission, we still wouldn't have been expecting Lazarus to get involved after all this time."

"We probably should have told Nancy and Vanessa about Lazarus long ago, though." Frank said regretfully. "I mean, there's no way to be prepared for that sort of thing, but... I guess I just didn't say anything because..."

"Network." Joe finished understandingly.

There seemed to be quite a few concepts that Frank and Joe could only explain by shrugging and saying 'Network,' and after the insane events of the past few weeks, Nancy was starting to see why. She frowned as she realized she was eavesdropping without meaning to, and she climbed back into bed, trying to be content with the knowledge that Frank and Joe were actually talking again. But the walls were thin, and she couldn't help but continue listening to what they were saying.

"Right..." Frank said.

Joe sighed. "Obviously I'm upset about what happened. Upset doesn't even begin to cover it. But I know it's not your fault." he said. "What _is_ your fault is that you didn't tell me about your mission. Would it really have been that hard to say 'By the way, Joe, Nan and I are planning on doing some courier thing for the Gray Man'? I thought we were partners."

"We _are_ partners." Frank said in a bemused tone. "I just really didn't think you'd be interested in coming on my honeymoon."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Joe retorted. "I mean, I know that Nan's your partner now too, and I get it. I do." He paused and then groaned. "God, it's going to sound like I'm jealous of Nancy, like I'm worried she's replacing me or something, but that's not what I mean. I just can't believe you left me out of the loop about Network stuff. I mean, literally whenever we get tangled up with them we end up nearly getting ourselves killed. Hell, half the time we spent crammed in that trunk I was convinced you _were _dead. Network stuff is important, Frank. You can't just not tell me about it."

"You're right, Joe." Frank answered. "Well, except for the part about me replacing you with Nancy, which is crazy."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant." Frank said seriously. "And you're right. I should have told you about the Network mission. I had no reason not to—all I can say is that it really didn't seem like a big deal at the time—and I'm sorry. I really am sorry, Joe. And I promise you that I will tell you if anything like this ever comes up again. Although somehow I doubt that the Gray Man will be calling on us for a while. When Nan and I left him at the airport in Cairo, we pretty much told him that the Network is on their own from now on."

"Yeah, but we always say that, and they always find a way to reel us back in." Joe said dolefully.

"I guess..."

There was a long silence before Joe said, "So how you holding up?"

"Not great." Frank admitted finally. "I hate everything about this situation. I hate knowing what that bastard did to Nancy, the way he brutalized her, tormented her for fun. I hate that she wakes up in the middle of the night and can't stay in the same bed with me."

Nancy's brow furrowed as she lay there in the darkness. She had always left the room when Frank was asleep, and was up before he woke up... She hadn't realized he'd known about her sleeping on the couch. But of course he did. It was hard to get things past Frank.

"I hate that all I want to do is be there for her and I can't, because just the fact that I'm _me_ makes everything worse."

Nancy bit her lower lip. That last statement wasn't true, at least, it was partly untrue. She hadn't realized just how much Frank needed to know that she trusted him.

"I'm sorry, Frank..." Joe was saying. "But if it helps at all, she's obviously just as worried about you as you are about her. I mean, she did give me permission to hate her forever in exchange for me taking some of that guilt off your shoulders."

"Joe."

"_But_ I'm doing it for free." Joe clarified quickly.

Frank sighed. "How about you? How are you holding up?"

"I don't know." Joe answered slowly. "All Van wants to do is be happy I'm alive, she doesn't want to think about the double. Personally, I kind of wish I could have killed him myself. God, thinking about him touching her... I guess I don't have to tell you."

"You don't." Frank said. Nancy wasn't used to hearing that kind of anger in his voice, not from the real Frank, and it startled her a little. "I understand completely. When I walked into that room and saw Nancy handcuffed to the bed and covered with blood... I still don't know how I managed to keep it together. I think I would have killed him if I'd been physically able. As it was, he would have killed _me_ if Nan hadn't managed to get free and distract him."

"The Network's gonna fry him for this." Joe said comfortingly. "And you know how much regard they have for the Geneva conventions."

"Yeah... A lot of good that does me if he's who Nancy sees every time she looks at me." Frank said in a low voice. "I keep wondering if it would be kinder to let her go, Joe. To let her move on with her life without having to constantly remember what happened. But if I even try to broach the subject of taking time apart she takes it to mean that I don't want her, that she's somehow ruined for me, and that's the farthest thing from the truth."

In the bedroom, Nancy sucked in a shuddering gasp as Frank made this painful confession. As difficult as their relationship was at the moment, the thought of Frank 'letting her go' was too much to take.

"'Move on with her life'? Frank," Joe said sensibly. "Her life is _here_. This is it. You're it."

"I _was_ it."

"You're being stupid." Joe, flatly.

"Excuse me?" Frank, offended.

"You think you're doing what's best for her, and it's noble, but you're being stupid." Joe repeated himself. "You're not doing either of you any favors by pretending that she doesn't need you, and that you don't need her. Things'll get better. They have to."

"And if they don't?"

"They will."

There was a buzzing sound, and Nancy realized that someone was calling Joe's cell phone. "It's Van." he said. "Hang on, Frank." Then he was speaking into the phone. "Hey babe... yeah, sorry... no, I'm at Frank's... No, it's fine... Don't worry, Van, it's fine, really... Yeah, I'll be home in a little bit. Love you." He hung up the phone and spoke apologetically to Frank. "Lately she's been getting kind of worried when she doesn't know where I am."

"And with good reason." Frank said. His voice was still strained, but now there was a teasing note to it. "You can barely go out for milk without somehow getting into a knife fight."

"Ha-ha." Joe said sarcastically. "She tries to hide it, but..."

"You'd better get home then." Frank said.

"Yeah..." Joe said, but he sounded a little reluctant. "So, we're okay?"

"We're okay." Frank answered quietly. "Thanks, Joe. And... thanks for bringing Nancy home."

"No sweat."

She heard them exchange goodbyes, and the opening and closing of the door. She sat up in bed, waiting for Frank to come in, but he didn't.

She decided it was time to go to him.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed and cracked open the bedroom door. She could see Frank sitting upright on the loveseat, running his hand through his hair in a way which meant he was deep in thought.

"Hey."

He looked up at her as she stood in the doorway. "Hey."

"Frank." She took a deep breath and sat facing him on the seat, tucking one of her feet under herself. "I still trust you. More than anyone. And the fact that you're you doesn't make everything worse. It makes things better."

He shook his head. "You weren't asleep for _any_ of that, were you?"

Nancy smiled impishly. "Define 'sleep.'"

"Sleep." Frank said dryly.

"Oh. Well then, no, I wasn't." Her words were light, but when she reached out to touch his shoulder, the contact was laden with meaning. "I want to talk to you," she said. "About all of this, and trust that you'll be strong enough to handle it. And I want you to do the same with me. You don't have to hold back your emotions from me. I'm not as fragile as you think."

"I never meant that I thought you were fragile." Frank said. Slowly, he let his hand slide up her forearm and entwined their fingers together. "But after what you went through, you deserve some gentleness."

"And you're doing fine." she promised, smiling at him softly before standing up and tugging at his hand. "Come to bed."

He didn't get up. "I can sleep out here." he said, gesturing to the loveseat. "I don't want to make your nightmares worse."

"You don't." Nancy said, and it was mostly true. It only took her a few seconds of waking panic to realize she was was with her Frank and not the double. "I just come out here so that I don't wake you."

"I want you to wake me." Frank said, standing now. "I want to be there for you."

Nancy nodded her understanding. It would be difficult to describe her dreams to Frank, to know that he would probably take some measure of guilt from them, but if it was the price she paid to get him to open up as well, she thought she could do it. "From now on, if I have a nightmare I'll wake you." she promised. "...Now will you come? I'm exhausted. It didn't used to be this hard to get you into bed."

Frank smiled, drawing her in by the hand and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "All right." he said.

Nancy felt that familiar tingle shiver through her as his lips touched her, and it made her smile as well. "All right."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Thank you so much, Caranath, ILoveMom, Jabba1, Really Cinderella, TrixieNancy124, the. vulture, Stork Hardy, Ealasaid Una, leyapearl, Amy McGee, Tigress2929, SC15, and Yasmin for their reviews on the last chapter; in fact, thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing this story. I greatly appreciate every one of you! Lastly, I want to thank supernaturalsam, without whom this story probably wouldn't have been written at all.

Well, here comes the last chapter you guys. Hope you all like fluff...

* * *

"I'm thinking about asking Frank to marry me." Nancy said suddenly. She and Vanessa were sitting at a table outside of a cafe in downtown Bayport, having lunch. It had been nearly three weeks since Nancy's return from Egypt.

Vanessa paused with her sandwich halfway to her mouth, looking like she didn't quite know how to respond to that.

"When I was stuck in Egypt, I told him in a phone call that when I came back, I wanted to marry him for real." Nancy explained. "He said of course we could, if I wanted to, and we ended up kind of fighting about it, but..." she sighed. "We've talked a lot about what happened in Egypt, but we haven't talked much about what we're going to do now, and in the future."

"Okay..." Vanessa nodded, encouraging her to go on.

Nancy wiped her fingers on her napkin and reached into her purse, drawing out a gray envelope. "I got this in the mail this morning." she said, handing it across the table. "There was no return address, and the postmark is completely illegible, but I know who sent it."

Vanessa opened the envelope, her eyebrows rising as her eyes were met with the soft gleam of gold. "Is this...?"

"Frank's wedding ring." Nancy said. "The Gray Man must have recovered it from the double and decided to return it to us."

"The envelope is addressed to 'Nancy Drew.'" Vanessa noted, handing it back. "Maybe he's... trying to tell you that it's your decision, as to what you want to do with it."

"That was my thought." Nancy agreed, nodding. She sighed, taking the ring out of the envelope and rolling it between her fingers pensively. "But I'm scared. I'm not sure if I could take it if he said no."

"I don't think he'll say no, Nancy."

"He might say yes despite not really wanting to." Nancy said. "That would be worse."

Vanessa shook her head. "Honestly. Do you really think Frank would do that to you? He loves you, Nancy. It's as obvious as anything."

"I know he does." Nancy said, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "It's just that... we used to be totally ready for this. But now, _marriage _seems like this huge, significant thing, and if we get married for real... I don't know. It's like acknowledging that the double got there first."

Vanessa said nothing for a long moment, toying nervously with her water glass. After a minute she finally said, "I should probably tell you that Joe and I got married. In Aruba, right after it happened."

"What?" Nancy said, surprised. "Really?"

Vanessa nodded. "He asked me if we could do it, get married for real, in private, and I knew that it was really important to him. So before we flew home we found someone to do the ceremony for us. It was nothing flashy; we obviously didn't have any guests... I mean, technically, we were already legally official, but Joe needed to feel like we'd done it right, and I did too. He and Frank missed the wedding, Nancy. They're dealing with the same guilt that we are, just from the opposite side."

Nancy bit her lip, nodding.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Vanessa continued. "It's just... well, you know how upset Joe was with you and Frank at first, and then you were both having such a hard time that I felt like telling you would just be rubbing it in."

"I understand." Nancy said. But she had one more question. "Are you happy you did it?"

Vanessa smiled. "Yeah. I am."

* * *

"_Where is it? **Where is it?**"_

_She was sprawled, shivering, on the bloodstained floor of the balcony. "Under the dresser. It slid under by accident when I dropped my purse... It's been under there for days." Her voice was shrill and hysterical._

_Frank II lowered the gun. "By accident." he repeated. "And all this time, you've-" He grimaced, raising the gun again. "You little..."_

_She looked up into familiar brown eyes, eyes that she was used to seeing shining with love and concern, but which now gleamed with malice and bloodlust. It didn't seem fair that they were the last thing she'd ever see._

_He pulled the trigger and the world exploded into pain._

Nancy's eyes shot open and fixed upon the bedroom ceiling fan, which rotated lazily, cooling the sweat on her skin and making her shiver. She pulled the sheet up around her shoulders. After a moment, she reached for the man lying next to her.

"Frank?"

He stirred briefly before opening his eyes. "Another nightmare?" he asked, his voice slightly raspy from sleep.

She nodded.

He blinked again, and now his eyes were clear and focused. It never failed to amaze her how quickly Frank could go from being dead asleep to completely alert. He sat up and reached out to her, allowing her to make the final move of crawling into his arms. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"It was about when he tried to shoot me." she explained, leaning back into his body as her shaking began to subside. The nightmares weren't a nightly occurrence anymore, and thankfully, she'd also gotten to the point where having Frank there was more of a comfort than a fear. Sometimes she elaborated more when she told him about her dreams, but this dream had been brutally simple.

When she didn't continue, Frank asked, "Do you think it has anything to do with tomorrow?"

_Tomorrow._ Tomorrow was their wedding day. It had been two weeks since she'd received Frank's ring in the mail, since she'd confessed her fears to Vanessa, since she'd found her faith in Frank and asked him if they could do another ceremony—one for _them_. "No." she said. "I don't think it does." There was a stubbornness to her tone, an indicator for him that she was confident about what they were doing, that she wasn't going to change her mind.

She knew that he'd picked up on it when he laughed into her hair. "Good." he said softly. "I don't think so either."

"Good." she said decisively.

He squeezed her softly. "Do you know how happy I was when you asked me to marry you?"

"Probably about as happy as I was a year ago when _you_ asked _me_." Nancy guessed.

"Happier."

"Impossible." Nancy disagreed with a smile.

"No, really." Frank murmured. He unwrapped one arm from her waist and used it to pull back the hair hanging over her ear and shoulder, pressing a short, soft kiss against her neck.

The kiss became a line of kisses, and the memory of her dream faded away completely as his caresses captured her complete attention. She felt her heartbeat speed up, felt her breathing grow erratic. She'd had her fair share of panic attacks in the weeks since her ordeal with the Network... but she realized, with a heady feeling, that this wasn't one of them.

She turned in his arms, melting into him as their mouths connected. Warmth was coursing through her—it seemed impossible that she'd just been cold. His t-shirt bunched up under her hands, and she had the sudden impulse to pull it off of him. He was clutching her waist just as tightly, and a whimper of desire escaped her throat.

Frank pulled away, dropping his hands from her waist as if he'd been burned. "God, Nan... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The air felt cool on her flushed skin once more as she opened her eyes and looked at him in the semi-darkness. "For what?" she asked, her voice raspy with need. But she knew what: she and Frank hadn't done anything more intimate than cuddling for nearly two months, and this encounter had definitely been shaping up to go farther than that. Somehow, she felt nothing of the nerves or flashbacks she'd expected to have—instead, a thrill of anticipation shot through her at the thought.

Frank scrubbed a hand over his face, and she could see that he was trying to get himself under control. "I shouldn't have... Are you okay?"

When he'd first pulled away, she'd been a little worried that he didn't want her... but it was plain that that was far from the case, and it emboldened her. She swallowed hard. "I was until you stopped." she confessed.

His eyes snapped up to hers. "What?" he asked, his voice low and rough enough to make her heart beat just a little bit faster.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered whether he'd agreed to marry her despite thinking that they'd never have sex again, and she had to suppress a laugh. "I didn't want you to stop." she told him breathlessly.

He closed his eyes briefly, and she got the sense that he was physically holding himself back. "I don't want to push you, Nan."

"And you never have." she murmured. She reached out and cupped his face, drawing it closer to her own. "Frank..." She knew he was worried that he would hurt her, and with that one word she tried to convey her complete trust in him.

His fingers skimmed lightly over her arm before finding and taking her hand. He brought it up to his lips, and the hot kiss he placed in her palm made her blood start racing anew. "I'll stop if you want me to." he promised huskily, his mouth ghosting over the side of her thumb, the pulse point of her wrist. "Just say the word."

It was like a weight lifting off of her heart. As his lips began their agonizingly slow journey down the pale skin of her inner forearm, Nancy curled herself around his body, sliding her other hand into his hair. Her own lips teased his ear as she whispered, "I'll never want you to stop."

* * *

"There you go." Vanessa said, stepping back and looking at her work with a critical eye.

"Thanks, Vanessa. It's great." Nancy said warmly, checking her hair in the mirror. Vanessa had left most of it down in loose ringlets around her shoulders, but pulled one side back and pinned it in the back, tucking a white flower into her hair. It was a far cry from the formal-looking bun and veil she'd worn at her "first" wedding, and Nancy was perfectly happy about that. She hadn't wanted to wear her wedding dress again, hadn't wanted to recall memories of that first day, and so a simple white sundress had suited her perfectly. Today wasn't about ceremony and tradition, it was about celebrating with Frank.

Although she was pleased with her appearance, Nancy couldn't help but sigh as she looked in the mirror. This was her real wedding, the only one that Frank would get, and although it was going to be as happy and meaningful as she could make it, she still regretted that he would never get the chance to be married in the grand church among all his friends and family.

But their friends and family could never know about what happened with the doubles. Even if Nancy did have government clearance to tell them—and she certainly didn't—she doubted that she would be able to, and that they would believe her if she did. Even if, miraculously, they believed her, they would never really understand...

"If they were here, they'd all be just as happy and proud today as they were then." Vanessa said quietly.

Nancy turned to face her friend, no longer surprised that she seemed to know exactly what Nancy was thinking. "This is the real deal, and our families... it just feels like they should be here. My dad, Fenton and Laura, Hannah, Bess and George..."

Vanessa reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "I know. In some ways, I wish we could tell them about all this too... but honestly, in some ways, I'm glad I don't have to."

"You're right." Nancy agreed, smiling sadly. "Me too."

There was a light knock on the door and Joe peeked in. "Pastor's here."

Nancy nodded. "I'm ready."

Joe stepped into the room. He, like Frank, had foregone the formal tuxedo, instead choosing a nice suit. He smiled at Nancy. "You look great, Nan."

"Thanks." Nancy said. To her horror, she felt her eyes begin to well with tears.

"Whoa!" Joe said in alarm. "What's wrong?"

Nancy quickly dabbed her tears away with her wrist before they could do irreparable damage to her makeup. "I don't know," she confessed with a watery laugh. She spoke to Joe and Vanessa as she said, "I'm so glad you're both here. Thank you."

Joe reached out and pulled her into a hug. "Of course we're here, we're family."

This almost set Nancy off again, especially since it was just a few short weeks ago that she'd wondered if Joe would ever forgive her and Frank for what had happened with the doubles, but she managed to keep it together. "I've always wanted an annoying little brother." she joked hoarsely into his shoulder.

"Looks like it's your lucky day then." Vanessa said, grinning when Joe made a face at her.

"'Little'?" he grumbled, just as he always did when Frank used the expression. He pulled away from Nancy and looked into her face. "Hey, I'm glad you guys are doing this." he said seriously. "It means a lot to Frank."

"It means a lot to me too." Nancy answered.

Joe nodded. "And... Nan? I'm sorry you didn't get to come to our wedding. I wanted to marry Van as soon as possible, but if I'd really thought about it, I'd have wanted you and Frank there too."

"I know." Nancy said, squeezing his arms. "Thanks." It felt like an understanding had passed between them. She and Joe had been family before the doubles incident, and they would be again... officially, now.

"Come on." he said, offering one arm to Nancy and the other to Vanessa. "Frank's been waiting forever for this."

"Is he nervous?" Vanessa asked sympathetically as they headed for the main door of the chapel.

"Not a bit." Joe said. "He's a rock."

Nancy smiled. That was the old Frank. Never wavering in his commitment to her. And looking inside herself, she found that she wasn't nervous either.

There was no string quartet, no grand procession down the aisle, but none of that really mattered. The small chapel was bright and cozy, and the warm smile on Frank's face when he first saw her was all she could have asked for. He looked quite handsome himself in his dark gray suit, and her heart gave that familiar flutter when his eyes locked on hers.

Joe and Vanessa took their places on either side of the aisle while Nancy moved to Frank's side, slipping her hands into his. The pastor, a sandy-haired young man with an indulgent expression, read the opening prayer.

Frank's thumb skimmed over her fingers in a light caress, and Nancy's cheeks grew warm as she recalled how perfect he'd been last night, how gentle and loving he'd been with her. She knew that he was still being careful with her, that he was still worried about the lingering effects the double's treatment might have on her, but he wasn't giving up. And neither was she.

She didn't doubt that there would be bad days ahead, that the nightmares would still come, that the unknowing references their families and friends made to the wedding and honeymoon would still be painful.

But this time, when she looked down at the ring newly-replaced on her finger, it didn't feel binding like handcuffs or gleam like the malicious reminder of a past mistake. Instead, it shined like a promise.

And when the pastor proclaimed them husband and wife, and Frank leaned in to capture her lips with no fear in his eyes, no hesitation...

That felt like a promise too.


End file.
